


Another Way

by Daaahlias



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Dark Humor, F/F, Grumpy Old Fuckers In Love, Happy Ending, Homophobic Language, Let Amanda be happy, Los Santos is Gay, M/M, NSFW, Original Character(s), Post Game, TRUE LOVE PREVAILS MAN, Wholesome relationships, abuse mention, csa mention, trauma mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-10 00:59:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 67,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11116572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daaahlias/pseuds/Daaahlias
Summary: "You sure you love me?""Baby, I've loved you since you crash landed into my heart"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A Better Summary: Its been about six months since Ending C took place and Los Santos has returned to its regular bullshit. But while Michael expects his life to more or less go back to normal, Amanda surprises him with a divorce. What follows is the life and times of Michael De Santa and Trevor Philips piecing back their relationship and falling in love once again. 
> 
> This is more of a personal project for me because I love these characters so much and I want them to be happy (This includes Amanda De Santa, so uh, dont like her? dont read??). I also reference my previous fic Fear and Loathing in Sandy Shores, so if the characters are talking about something that makes you go ??? its probably a reference to That.  
> The story is told in little blurbs that take place either in the current story or before, but are marked. This is a new way of writing that I've thought about but never tried, so please bare with me.  
> As always, thank you so much for reading and supporting my work! Please leave a kudos or comment if you're digging this fic so I can feel validated in my existence. 
> 
> Xoxo,  
> Daaarlings

**2014**

Amanda always did things in a normal fashion. If she had a problem, she went for the most straightforward solution. She didn’t want to choose a life of crime to pay the bills, so she started working as a stripper at her mother’s bar. She didn’t want to have to worry about becoming a single mother, so she married Michael. She needed a hobby, so she took up yoga and tennis. Amanda did things like most people were suppose to, things that didn’t lead to death and destruction. Of course, when Amanda asked Michael to meet her for lunch, it would’ve been normal to assume that she wasn’t going to ask for a divorce.

“Baby, I thought we were working on things” Michael stammered, his hand clasped firmly on his glass of whiskey. He felt hot all over, shame wasn’t something that  _ normally  _ came to Michael, it made him uncomfortably hot. 

“Michael, I don't think we  _ can  _ fix our marriage” Amanda hadn’t worn any foundation that day, Michael noticed because he always tried to notice when she did something new with her makeup. He wanted to be validating, see and remember things that a husband should. “Because...Michael, did you ever even love me?”

He was reaching out trying to hold her hands now, desperate to hold onto something. But Amanda pulled her hands away just before he could reach her. “Of course I do! I’ve always loved you!”

Amanda for the first time in their marriage wasn’t looking at Michael with the sad and stormy look in her eyes as she normally did. There was something else, something clear about it. “And you’ve said that every time I’ve asked you if you loved me over the years. But I’m not an idiot, Michael. I mean, I married you, but I’m not an idiot”

“Baby, just...tell me what I did wrong! I’ve been a good boy, y’know? No affairs, no murders, hell, I’m retired! We’re  _ millionaires _ ”

“I know, Michael, it's just--” Amanda let out a heavy sigh, and delicately placed a hand on Michael’s, her fingers grazing his wedding band. “Michael, I don't think we were ever in love”

He was less distraught now that Amanda had said what needed to be said years ago. Michael didn’t think she was wrong, he didn’t exactly love her how he knew love. He only knew what love was like when he was with one person, and it wasn’t Amanda. Over the years he tried to simulate the bond he use to share with another, but it couldn’t be copied. It was why their marriage had always been so strained. It was just two people trying desperately to fall in love with each other while also resenting one another.

“I think we need to admit to ourselves that we both made a mistake getting married. But I don't really care if you accept it or not, because I want a divorce”

“Oh boy, I’m sure it’ll be fun to crucify me in court huh? All the affairs, the anger issues, oh man, by the end of this you’ll be a millionaire and I’ll be living in a cardboard box!” Michael sneered

“I don't  _ want  _ your fucking money, Michael” That stopped him dead in his tracks. He looked at Amanda, sweet Amanda with her grey hairs dyed brown and her wrinkles starting to come back as the botox faded. He realized then that this wasn’t an argument, it wasn’t even them testing each other. Amanda was serious, and Michael was paying attention. “Mike...for the first time in my life, I’m in love. And I don't want your money, I mean, I  _ do  _ want my half, but I don't want your fucking money. I want to be...me, Michael.”

He breathed hard as he laid back in his chair, massaging the bridge of his nose. Just then the waiter came and took their dirty dishes, asking if they needed anything. Amanda requested another glass of wine for herself and another whiskey for Michael. Before the waiter could leave their table, Michael snapped back at Amanda, “What you fucking that Yogi again?”

She scoffed, “You are such a pig! No, its not Fabien, its not Kyle, its...its…”

“What, do they got a bigger dick than me?” Just as those words came out of Michael’s mouth all of the other conversation in the room stopped, and all eyes were on them.

The waiter, a young boy probably from the midwest trying to capture the Vinewood dream, awkwardly watched the two of them. He found some wiggle room to ask, “I-Is that all?”

“Oh, oh, i’m  _ sorry  _ that I’ve been having an affair for the last five years Michael! You know I am  _ such  _ an immoral person compared to you! At least you’ve committed twenty years to the same shithead who tried to have you killed not once, not twice, not even three times, but four fucking times!”

The other diners by this time were whispering and looking at Michael and Amanda. But Michael was officially defeated, he had his eyebrows raised, eyes wife. He  _ knew  _ what she was saying, but he needed to be sure. He needed to know that she was saying, what he thought she was saying. “I’ll bring these orders to the bartender” the waiter squeaked as he awkwardly began to shuffle away. 

“Well, you know...Me and T go way back, friends stay together”

Amanda shook her head, lifting her empty wine glass sadly. “I’m not an idiot, Michael. I know what you two do, I’ve  _ always  _ known”

He was laughing now, or at least forcing himself to. “Baby, look…”

“You were always so sad when he wasn’t around, and you’d drop everything to go see him. I mean my  _ god,  _ Michael, you’d come home from his motel room with hickies on your neck like a fucking teenager! You even mumble his name when you sleep”

Regret was something that came easily to Michael. He regretted walking into the strip club Amanda worked at, he regretted joining the witness protection program, he regretted leaving his old life behind only to become miserable in the next. Regret was easy for Michael because it gave him an excuse to hate himself. But  _ shame,  _ shame wasn’t so easy. Shame was what he felt when someone called him a  _ fag, homo, queer,  _ no matter how old he was. Shame was when he’d get caught staring at another man too long, and the look of disgust he’d get. Shame was hard, shame made him miserable. And in that moment he felt shame, shame that he did all of this to Amanda and never came clean. That he put not only Amanda through this, but Trevor too. He felt immense shame that he was so concerned with being someone he wasn’t that he ended up fucking over everyone involved. 

“I-- I’m sorry, Mand.  _ Fuck… _ ”

“You love him, right?” She wasn’t defeated, Amanda was just information gathering. Amanda use to cry at night when she knew Michael wasn’t coming home. She use to do her hair and makeup for hours hoping he’d notice and fall head over heels in love with her, only to run outside to hop in Trevor’s Bodhi.  _ That  _ made her sad, this did not. 

“I think”

“Be  _ sure,  _ Michael. I want to know”

He raised a brow, “Why? You gonna use this against me in court?”

“Jesus, Michael between us, we’ve had so many affairs I don't even know who would win if we counted them.  _ No,  _ I’m not going to use this in court. I just, I  _ want  _ you to be honest with me. For once in our fucking marriage, just tell me the truth”

He knew the answer, the answer was yes, a million times over. He loved Trevor when they were kids, he loved them now that they were old. He loved that he had this semi-permanent frown that turned to pure sunshine when he smiled. He loved that Trevor knew the lyrics to every rock and punk song made between the 70’s to the late 90’s. He loved that Trevor liked to be held when he slept and slept like a log. He loved that Trevor gave the tightest hugs and the deepest of kisses. He loved that he could go all night or stay up watching Michael’s favourite Vinewood movies. He loved him, a million times over, he loved him so much it hurt. He lied to himself for years that he hated him, that Trevor was the devil, the monster in the closet. But he wasn’t. He was, for better or for worse, the only person Michael had ever loved and who loved him back.

“Are you really happy with this guy you’re seeing?” Michael wanted to stop talking about himself, stop talking about Trevor. 

“I am”

“Can you maybe tell me about them, since I just admitted to you quite possibly my biggest and worst kept secret?”

Amanda laughed, “I think I earned the right to my privacy, for now anyway”

“Whatever you say babe, so, lawyers, you already got one or what? I don't exactly know how this whole thing is meant to work” 

“You and me both darling”

 

**2006~roughly**

Amanda didn’t know how to cry about Michael anymore. She’d caught him snorting coke at Tracey’s 5th birthday party with one of the other dads in the neighborhood. she’d seen him run someone off the road for cutting him off and pretend it didn’t happen. She’d seen him come home beaten and bloody after a drunken bar fight and lock himself in the bathroom until morning. 

She was use to Michael disappointing her. It was the only reliable fact in her life, the only one that she knew would never waver. But of all things, she wasn’t expecting to find him fucking a stripper in their marital bed. 

“Mand! It's not what you think!” He yelled, with his cock still inside of the dancer, as if there could be any other explanation as to what they were doing. 

Amanda didn’t have any words. Instead she just started throwing the family pictures on the wall at them. The girl went running out of the house with barely any time to put her shirt back on. Afterwards Amanda threw out Michael out of the house, threw all of his shit out of their bedroom window and announced to the world that he had a pencil dick. Michael protested, yelled at Amanda only wearing his underwear while the girl awkwardly jumped their fence to escape.

For about an hour Amanda argued with Michael at the top of her lungs for everyone to hear. He of course reverted to threats, that she was stuck with him no matter what. Once Amanda started to feel tired, she just slammed the bedroom window shut and screamed into a pillow. She didn’t know when Michael finally left, she didn’t really care. She just did as she did every time he disappointed her, she drank wine. 

At first Tracey came downstairs to ask if her and Michael were getting a divorce. To which Amanda shrugged, “I don't know”

“If you guys do get a divorce, can I live with Hannah?”

“Whose Hannah?”

“Like, my best friend! You took us to the mall last week”

Amanda genuinely did not remember anything beyond tuesday. Trying to remember anything before noon was a headache.

Jimmy didn’t ask anything of Amanda, he just stayed in his room playing video games.

By the time dinner rolled around, Amanda didn’t know what to cook.  _ Cook,  _ was a lightly used term, since the family more or less survived on microwaved meals. She settled on pizza, let the kids eat in their rooms. 

Amanda didn’t eat, she couldn’t eat. Michael had told her,  _ promised  _ her that things would be different in Los Santos. But everything was the same as it always was.

Michael was fucking someone else or he was drunk around the house watching movies. All he did was feel bad about himself about the things he’d done in his life. Or better yet he would sob about what a horrible husband and father he was in a passive aggressive attempt to get attention from his family.

Amanda wasn’t terribly different either, however. She still survived on a steady diet of ativan, xanax, and box wine. She was still pretending that everything was fine and that she didn’t spend her nights wondering where she went wrong.

But most of all, she was  _ still  _ alone, even more now. 

Joining the Witness Protection Program meant that Amanda lost  _ everyone.  _ She was never close with her family, her mother was an abusive and horrible woman, her father just as sinister. Her sisters, Candice and Bethany were still working at clubs when Amanda Townley ‘disappeared’, but they were reliable. Amanda knew she could call her sisters if she needed a shoulder to cry on. She knew she could call her mother to remember how much better she was than her in the parenting department. She had friends, somewhat, in all of the different places she and Michael had lived over the years. People she could still call to get that bomb ass cupcake recipe, or to talk about how shitty their husbands were. But in Los Santos, Amanda had no one, because she was Amanda De Santa and no one else.

She tried to pretend that she wasn’t midwest trailer trash, but she couldn’t hide it. Lying didn’t come easy to Amanda, it's what made being married to Michael so challenging. She could make up a story about why her and her husband had just moved to town, or how they met (She was partial to, “He saw me from across the art museum and said I was the only masterpiece in the room”). But she couldn’t peddle back when she let it slip that she had cousins who were her uncles, or that she knew what meth smelled like. She could try to make friends at the snooty country club her and Michael paid oodles of cash to be apart of, but everyone just  _ knew  _ she didn’t belong. 

She was alone, completely and utterly. 

That's why the next morning when someone rang her doorbell, she darted up from a dead sleep to see who it was.

Usually it was the mailman who couldn’t throw the package over the fence. But Amanda was usually desperate for any form of attention since she didn’t get it anywhere else.

But when she looked out the window she was surprised to see a woman with long blonde hair standing at her fence holding a bottle of champagne under her arms and cake in her hands.. 

 

Vanessa Swankowski came to Los Santos for the same reason so many women did. She had big dreams of becoming a Vinewood star, her name on the walk of fame, her face on every billboard from San Andreas to New York. That's why the minute she turned eighteen she used all of the cash she’d saved over her childhood to get to Los Santos. 

But like so many women, Vanessa didn’t achieve her dream, but she didn’t exactly do poorly for herself either.

Vanessa became a dancer at the Vanilla Unicorn after her savings ran out. She made a good living, made friends with lots of the girls, and found herself fitting into Los Santos better than she ever had anywhere else. 

Eventually, Vanessa met her husband, Will, one fateful night that lead to a number of hookups usually behind the club or in a seedy motel. One cocaine fueled night, Will proposed to Vanessa on the grounds that she’d be the best wife she would be. A year later, she was Vanessa Evans.

Eighteen years later, Vanessa and Will hated each other. They lived in the Vinewood hills in a cliffside mansion so big that they went days without seeing one another. Will was a lawyer to the famous stars of Vinewood who needed to keep their immoral acts hidden. Vanessa was a stay at home wife, usually spending her days doing blow and waiting for something exciting to take her attention.

That's why when she drove past the Spanish Renaissance style mansion on Portola Drive one day in 2006 and saw a woman throwing her husband’s belongings out of the window, she became interested.

The next morning she stopped by the supermarket and bought a sheet cake and a bottle of wine. She parked outside the mansion, and noticed a shoe was left behind possibly by the fleeing husband. 

When she rang the doorbell she half expected no one to answer, or to be told to fuck off and die. The latter she’d been told a great many times by her wonderful neighbors in the Vinewood Hills. 

“What do you want?” Said a tired voice on the other end,

“Well darlin’, I just happened to have driven past your lovely estate yesterday afternoon and saw you kicking out what I can only assume was your worthless mess of a husband. And sweetheart, I  _ love  _ a good story. So I come baring gifts of alcohol, cake, and a genuine interest in a stranger’s drama”

There was a pause. Vanessa had done this before, she use to watch her neighbors from her bathroom window with binoculars. Again, most people just told her to fuck off, sometimes to die.

“Is it white wine? I only drink white wine”

“Its  _ pink,  _ darling”

Another pause. 

And then a loud beep as the gate slowly opened. Vanessa smiled.

 

**2014**

Michael and Amanda spent the rest of their afternoon talking about how they wanted to do things. Michael was indifferent towards most of the topics, having recently become a millionaire most of what they discussed didn’t so much matter to him. Even with Amanda taking half of his money, he was still well enough to have cash for his great grandkids to never work a day in their lives. But the house was a tricky subject, on one hand Michael agreed that Amanda should have it. She more or less raised the kids in it, Michael just used it as a place to nurture his depression and self hatred. However, the house had seen more than its fair share of tragedy and trouble. The walls still had bullet holes from the night of Meltdown’s premiere, and Tracey was still shaken from the whole ordeal. They decided to discuss that particular topic with the kids to figure something out.

The rest of their time together was pleasant, Amanda and Michael finally talking to each other with kindness rather than disdain. 

Michael attempted to get more information from Amanda over her mysterious new suitor, but she kept most details to herself. She only revealed to Michael that they were an entrepreneur and successful business owner, in which Michael attempted to place what their brand was.

Amanda also had her interests in Michael and Trevor. She’d never been able to ask questions about them before, and she had a million questions. Most of which, Michael was able to answer. Most.

“How are you gonna...y’know, come out to the kids?”

Michael never thought that anyone would know about him and Trevor, not once he got married to Amanda anyway. When Trevor was allowed around Michael’s family before 2004 and they were still close, the general rule was “Never in the House”. This meant no obvious signs of affection in front of Amanda and the kids. This rule seemed to at least keep two of the three parties unknowing to their relationship. Michael truly did not believe his children were smart enough or had the self awareness to realize how their father and Uncle T felt towards each other. So the idea of  _ telling  _ them was humorous at first for Michael to think about, but then became downright  _ terrifying.  _ “I dunno, guess I’ll talk to it about Trev. I mean... _ if  _ he wants to talk about it”

“What’d you mean?” Amanda questioned, “Trevor’s not in the closet is he?”

Michael laughed, “T doesn’t really hide himself, but uh...I don't know, it may just be me telling the kids. I don't know how he’ll react when I tell him we’re splitting”

“You mean you don't know if he’ll want you back?”

_ Ah Amanda, always willing to say what I don't want to admit.  _ “Yeah”

“Well I wouldn’t blame him, you’re a pretty shitty person, Michael”

He nodded, “Yeah, I know”

“But you’re also very sweet. Sometimes. Where is Trevor now?”

Michael drank down all of his whiskey, feeling himself becoming warm. “Sandy Shores”

 

**2013**

Michael thought that once they took care of every mother fucker who tried to cross him, Trevor, and Franklin, all three of them would be square. Michael had somewhat accepted as they pushed Devin Weston’s car off a cliff, that him and Trevor would probably never be able to be like they were before. Too much had happened to them, he’d hurt Trevor too much. He also wasn’t expecting Amanda to spring a divorce upon him, so he truly didn’t think that they’d ever have anything sexual or even romantic between them again. Well, except old memories.

About two days after the whole ordeal, Michael called up Trevor but he didn’t answer. In fact it just went straight to voicemail. Michael wondered if Trevor had truly moved on, and now  _ Michael  _ was the one being snubbed for once. It was a lonely and awful feeling to be the one being abandoned for once, so he called again an hour later. 

Trevor picked up, and angrily yelled into the phone, “I dont have the time,  _ Sugar _ ”

Michael raised a brow, “Oh, shit, uh, sorry. Whats going on T? Something wrong?”

“ _ Why  _ oh  _ why  _ do you always assume that I fucked something up?”

“I ain't assumin’ nothing! I’m just asking...how are you?”

Michael could hear Ron incoherently murmuring in the background, which prompted Trevor to threatened to eat Ron’s vocal cords if he didn’t shut up. “You’re back in Sandy Shores, already?” Michael asked sadly,

“Yeah, its where I  _ live,  _ Michael. Jesus, you’re needy”

“Yeah but what about the Vanilla Unicorn?”

“I got Wade takin’ care of that. Is that why you’re calling? You need a new wife?”

“No, I just--” Michael sighed, he knew he wasn’t going to get what he wanted. He wanted to ask Trevor if he wanted to hang out. He wanted Trevor to break into his house despite the front door being unlocked. He wanted them to sit and watch agreed upon shitty movies and talk about why they’re shitty together. He wanted them to have fun together, and not fight each other. Maybe Trevor would trust Michael enough to let him rest his head on his shoulder or even just let their legs touch without him scooching away. He hoped that after all they’d done, maybe they could start over. “Do you wanna, I dunno, hang out”

Trevor mimicked, “ _ I dunno, hang out, hurr hurr _ ”

“Look if you’re gonna be a turd--”

“Mikey, I  _ love  _ you, you are my favourite piece of vomit, but I am  _ busy.  _ I may be retired, BUT, I am still a CEO. I have  _ stuff  _ to do, Mikey,  _ things _ ”

“I get it, I get it. when are you gettin’ another day off then?” Michael tried to think of how he could get Trevor to do what he wanted him to do. He tried to tell himself we wasn’t going to be like this anymore, but he was. He was tired of lying to himself just as much as he was everyone else. “ _ I wanna see you, T _ ”

“I don't  _ fucking  _ know! I have so much work piled up my asshole I’m scared they may just find cancer up there”

“What?”

“I gotta go, Bikers to fuck, Meth to smoke, blah blah”

“Take care of yourse--” Michael could hear the beep of his phone telling him the call had ended.

In defeat he sat on his couch and poured himself a cup of whiskey. He didn’t actually know what to watch, everything felt so overdone now. He’d picked a fight with the government and  _ won,  _ stolen actual, literal, gold and gotten  _ away  _ with it. He  _ lived  _ a Heist movie, a real one, with gunfights, car chases, the works. Any movie like that was just him complaining about how inaccurate it was. Event Meltdown, which wasn’t even a technical heist movie, made him roll his eyes over how untrue it was.

After he finished his glass of whiskey his phone rang again, an unknown number. Trevor was on the other line with no background noise, no Ron, a worrying characteristic in a phone call with Trevor Philips. “I want to see you too, sugar tits. I’m busy. We’ll talk later”

“Are you okay, T?”

“We’ll see. Go out and do some fucking crossfit, you found like your arteries are about to burst”

Michael smiled, “Says the meth addict”

“Fuck you.” Trevor paused, Michael could already see him up against the wall talking on the phone, chewing on his bottom lip. “Don't call this number, alright? I’ll call you when I can talk”

“The fuck does that mean?”

“It means I need  _ you  _ to trust  _ me,  _ if you want  _ me  _ to trust  _ you _ ”

_ Did killing Wei Cheng, Devin Weston, Steve Haines, and Stretch mean that I’m still untrustworthy? _ “You swear you’re alright, T? I could help if you need me too”

“What I  _ need  _ is for you to listen to me once in your fucking life and not call this number” Trevor breathed. He was antsy, irritated, he was waiting for something but he wasn’t going to tell Michael. Michael wasn’t use to being on the receiving end of this kind of treatment, the lack of truth and obvious danger being hidden from them. He felt like his wife. “I’ll call when I call, that good enough, Princess Sugar Tits?”

“Oh I’m a princess now? Glad to hear i’m moving up in the world”

“Blah blah” Michael could see Trevor rolling his eyes, probably getting ready to smoke some crystal once the call ended. “I miss you Mikey. Now isn’t good for me”

“I got it. Just, stay safe for me, alright?”

“I’ll stay safe for Franklin, Ron, Wade, Jimmy, Tracey, Amanda, Lamar, Denise, Nigel--”

“But not me?”

“If you  _ waited,  _ you would know that I was going to say your fucking name last you sorry asshole”

Michael laughed, even if Trevor wasn’t physically there with him, he felt better just to talk to him. He wanted to keep him on the line longer, he didn’t want Trevor to leave him again. But Trevor was struggling to get loose and end the call, using tactics Michael had used in the past. “Look I gotta go, there’s a biker outside my window and if I don't shove a rusty pipe up his asshole, who will?”

“You know you could just let them go, doesn’t always have to end in confrontation”

“Yeah, I’m taking advice from the guy who took out a gangster by throwing a sticky bomb on his back and killing three other guys.  _ Sure _ ”

Outside the window he could see Amanda and Vanessa doing Yoga.

 

**2014**

Michael and Amanda drove home with the intention of telling the kids about the divorce straight away. Since they were going into this uncontested, there was no real reason for them to drag it out any longer than it needed to be. 

But when they pulled into the driveway, neither of them made a move. They just stared at their house that felt too big for the both of them. Michael had always felt that no matter where he went inside, he was always alone even if we was surrounded by family.  _ Michael there’s no logical reason to feel lonely when you surround yourself with family,  _ is what Friedlander once said. 

“How’d you think they’re gonna take it?” He asked Amanda,

“Probably badly. Remember when we told the kids the dog died?”

“Jimmy asked if he could stick a firecracker up its ass” Michael breathed.  _ At least they didn’t grow up to be like me.  _ “Our kids are fucking monsters”

“ _ Michael! _ ” Amanda couldn’t fake a shrill and concerned voice, not then anyway, “I mean, you’re not wrong. But still”

“I know, just never thought we’d have to tell ‘em this” Michael said, “I always imagined if we split it would be because I was dead”

“I think if you died before they were teenagers, I wouldn’t tell them” Amanda sighed, “I don't think I could’ve raised them without you. As fucked up as you are, you were a decent father, and they aren’t nearly as horrible as they could’ve been with you in their lives”

Michael blinked. It wasn’t the response he was use to, normally it was  _ at least they didn’t grow up to be like you.  _ He still didn’t think he was parent of the year, not even parent of the day, but it did feel a little nice to hear something like that from Amanda. “You would just let them think I left you guys?”

“Oh, no. I’d probably kill us all, go in the garage, turn the car on. I’d read them a bedtime story and hold them while we drifted into nothingness” Amanda breathed,

“Jesus...fucking...christ, Amand”

“What? I would’ve been able to support them, CPS would’ve probably taken them away. At least that way they were still mine” Amanda snickered, “What would you’ve done if I died? Would you have told them?”

Michael let out a sigh, it wasn’t exactly something he hadn’t thought about. He didn’t lead a very safe life even for his family. There was always a chance that if he crossed the wrong person or didn’t cover his tracks right, someone could kill his whole family if they so wanted to. 

He wanted to admit that he could do it, that he could raise the kids without her. He knew Trevor would want to help out as much as he was allowed, he was already their surrogate father figure anyway. But he knew that they would’ve just ended up dead a few months after Amanda had died if they stayed with him. He didn’t know how to be a protector or even a father, he relied on Amanda for that. “I’d just shoot them in their beds, then shoot myself”

“What if one heard the other?”

“We’d be in the same room, two guns”

“Hm. This is a horrible conversation, this is terrible”

“You started it!”

“Yeah...I guess I did”

 

Since Jimmy started looking for a job he spent less time in his room and more time downstairs working on his resume. He’d occasionally ask Michael or Amanda for help in his job search in vain, since neither of them had exactly worked  _ legal  _ jobs in years. Amanda’s last legal occupation was as a stripper, Michael’s was as a newspaper delivery boy when he was twelve. 

Tracey on the other hand spent more time in her room since she started taking summer classes at community college. Her door was normally open now, which made Amanda and Michael happy to see their daughter doing something they wished they could’ve done. 

Most nights Amanda and Michael let the kids do whatever they were doing, every now and again they’d yell for the kids to come downstairs and have dinner together. That's why when they called all the kids to the table, they were annoyed with the forced family interactions. “Look can we just order a pizza and do family dinner another night? I’m kind of busy” Jimmy said

“Yeah busy jacking it off into a sock” Tracey groaned, “I have homework,  _ real  _ work to do”

“Yeah well, this’ll only take as long as you want it to” Michael said as he scooted his chair closer to the table. Like many things, neither Michael nor Amanda knew how to go about this. Michael’s father was in and out of his life until he disappeared for good, and Amanda’s parents were never married. Michael just went over the film  _ An American Divorce  _ in his head the whole time. 

“Me and your father are getting a divorce” Amanda started, “If you kids have any qu--”

Jimmy turned red with laughter as he held his gut, while Tracey stared with her mouth agape. “Are you guys serious?” Tracey asked,

“Yeah, its no joke. Me and your mom are doing this uncontested, so, there's no conflict” Michael wasn’t completely sure if that's what uncontested meant but he was sure his kids didn’t know either. “Really the biggest decision is what to do with the house”

“God you two are pathetic! I mean seriously, like after  _ all  _ of this, you put your foot down now?” Jimmy laughed, “Mom you  _ have  _ to have better standards!”

“Hey!” Michael yelled,

“The next few weeks are going to be weird, alright? But we’re doing this  _ as a family,  _ and you kids are grown up now, so--” Amanda was trying her best to be the diplomat, trying to be calm and reasonable despite her children’s lack of manners. 

“Where are we gonna live?!” Tracey cried, “I’m in college! I can't live in a dorm, i’m not poor!”

Michael rolled his eyes, but remembered that he  _ did  _ say that he was going to make an effort to be less angry at the kids all the time. Instead he just angrily huffed on his side of the table while Amanda continued being the rational adult. 

“Well we can keep the house and you kids can keep living here. Or we can sell it, and me and your father will both get new places” Amanda explained,

“Y’know you kids can get your own fuckin’ place right?” Michael offered

“I’m in between jobs!” cried Jimmy,

“Yeah and I’m in  _ college! _ ” Tracey repeated,

“We want you kids to decide if you want to keep this place or not. Its no big deal if we keep it or not, you’ll still have a home” Amanda said in that calm and soothing voice she would use when Tracey would cry that she hated that they always had to move. The same voice when Jimmy would cry that no one picked him for soccer at recess. The voice that she used when Michael wasn’t sure if he was going home but she needed him back. 

Michael watched both of his kids think, but he had more of a concern for Tracey. She started going to a therapist, he hoped a better one than Friedlander. Tracey was still shaken from the attack on the house, she slept on the couch for a month afterwards. Only recently did she start going back in there, but at night Michael could still hear her sobbing on the stairs at night. There was also the fan that had stalked her for reasons Michael didn’t want to know, but he remembered how Tracey reacted when Michael accidentally killed him.

_ Tracey deserved better, I should’ve been better,  _ he thought to himself. Jimmy didn’t have a problem moving around when they were young, he would just make new friends anywhere they went. But Tracey was always sad when they had to pack up and leave. She only ever made friends by the end of their stay somewhere, and having to ditch town meant that she never had any friends once they started over. 

Tracey always shouldered the burden of the trauma of being a Townley kid. Jimmy could adjust anywhere, he got that from Michael who would sleep in the back of his mother’s car while she chased after his father wherever he went. But Tracey wasn’t like that, Tracey wanted to be a normal kid. She wanted to have friends that lasted forever, to have a home she could always return to. She wanted to be able to sleep at night, to not have panic attacks at the sound of a balloon popping. Michael knew the life he lead had done this to Tracey, poor Tracey, who hugged him and said that she wanted to be a princess. Now she would sit at the kitchen table and talk to her therapist about sleep medications that didn’t give her nightmares.

For all the mistakes he’d made in life, he knew that letting Tracey see what she’d seen in her life was one of the biggest ones. 

“Let's be real, I mean the Jizzle doesn’t run this way, you dig?” Michael groaned, he already wasn’t listening. “I mean we’re millionaires now, right? We should have a way bigger place!”

“If we’re selling the house it’ll be whatever size me and your mom want” 

“I mean...we grew up in this house, it kinda feels weird to sell it” Tracey shivered, “But maybe it’ll be good to move, I mean what if those assassin guys come back?”

“Merryweather ain't comin’ back here, baby. They don't even operate in this state anymore, and Daddy took care of the shithead who did that anyway”

“Oh, did you and Uncle T tear his guts out? Or like did you shoot him from behind and watch his brains splatter against the wall?”

“God shut up! Just shut up Jimmy!” Tracey cried, 

“ _ James _ ” Amanda stormed,

“Look we don't gotta make a decision tonight if you kids aren’t sure yet. But me and your mom want to move on this quick, so uh, sleep on it if you need to.”

“Okay but like, who's gonna live here if we keep it?” Jimmy asked, “Because that kinda changes if I even wanna be here”

Michael frowned, he knew Jimmy was trying to say that he didn’t want to live with him. Not that he minded, Jimmy was a shit disturber and while Michael loved him, he wouldn’t mind a break from him. He got that he still needed a place to stay, he was only twenty and didn’t even have a job yet. “Your mom, probably” Michael answered,

“Probably?” Amanda questioned with an eyebrow raised,

“If you wanna live with your mom, that's fine. If you want to live with me, that's fine too. I just want everyone to be happy”

“ _ You  _ want everyone to be happy? I don't even have a car!” Jimmy yelled,

Just then Michael felt his phone ringing in his pants, but silenced it. Amanda smiled seeing Michael putting effort into the conversation and put a hand on his shoulder. “At the end of the day, we’re all still a family. Me and your father have just decided that we want to spend this next part of our lives in a  _ different  _ way?”

“What, are you moving back in with Fabien?” Tracey scoffed,

“What is wrong with all of you? I have  _ standards! _ ”

“Mom no offense, but...we’ve all seen your taste in men. Its pretty depressing” Jimmy shrugged, gesturing Michael who had his phone out.

It was the same unknown number calling again. He hit ignore call, silenced it, and put it back in his pocket. But three seconds later it was ringing again,

“Just go answer it, we’ll still be here” Amanda smiled, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

Michael was already up and had the phone to his ear once he heard the confirmation from Amanda’s lips. He went outside to the pool, and cautiously answered, “Michael De Santa, how did you get this number?”

“Michael!!” Cried Ron on the other end, the distant sound of banging in the background, “You gotta get out here man! Trevor’s losing it!”

“What? What’d you mean Trevor’s losing it?” Michael panicked. 

“I-I don't know! He came home with a medicine van, and then I heard screaming and now he’s locked himself in a-and, and…”

There was genuine panic in Ron’s voice that set Michael off. Ron was always afraid, always paranoid, but in most situations he seemed to be able to handle anything. Be it Trevor needing a getaway car once he turned the corner, or needing him to jump out of a plane. The fact that he had to call Michael for help, that was worrying.

“What’d he take?” Michael asked,

“I-I don't know, he hasn’t been takin’ anything lately”

“The fuck does that mean?”

“H-He’s been doing pills, none of the other stuff. I swear! ” Ron cried, “I-I...I don't know what to do, Michael”

Michael grinded his teeth, turning to see Amanda playing peacekeeper with their kids. How often did Trevor desperately need Michael when Amanda needed him too? This wasn’t a negotiable situation, he  _ had  _ to go. They’d talk more in the morning when he got back.

“Alright Ron, this is whats gonna happen. You said he showed up in a medicine van? I need you to find a way to get it started because we’re gonna need to get rid of it. I’m gonna drive out there, It’ll take me a while so I need you to watch the trailer, alright? Make sure Trevor doesn’t escape and eat a fuckin’ cat or something. You got that?”

“I can do that! I can do that! But uh…”

“What, Ron?”

He didn’t answer, Michael could only hear the distant sound of Trevor howling in pain.

“Just watch him”

Anxiously he hung up and stormed back into the house, announcing that Trevor was having a bad trip and he had to go help out. He automatically expected a fight to come from it, that Amanda would make the point that he needs to put his family first and finish the conversation. But instead she called after him as he went into the garage, a black duffle bag in her hands. “Its Tracey’s after-party bag. It has…” She trailed off, giving Michael that  _ you don't want to know but you’ll need it,  _ look. 

He kissed her cheek, “Thank you”

“Keep me updated!” She called after him, “Don't get yourself killed!”

“No promises sweetheart”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the timeline of this is kinda WACK and i'm experimenting w/ this kind of storytelling so I apologize. Thank you to everyone for the support and kudos!   
> -Daaarlings

Michael decided to cut through Mount. Vinewood to get to Sandy Shores quicker. The roads up there were mainly wilderness and the only real attraction was the observatory which was usually deserted this time of night.

In the passenger seat was Tracey’s duffle bag stuffed to the brim with things Michael only glanced at. From what he saw there were a few water bottles, a towel, a change of clothes in a plastic bag, medicine, a first aid kit, and other items he couldn’t make out in the dark.

He hoped that this wasn’t something serious, that it was just a Trevor moment when he had a hard night.

Michael remembered this kind of stress from over nine years ago. He didn’t do anything when Trevor got into harder drugs, he just stood by and allowed it. When Trevor would do too much, Michael would keep him sitting upright, hold his hair back when he vomited, hug him when he started crying. Then when him and Trevor started to drift apart and Trevor would call Michael high, telling him he couldn’t stand or he didn’t know where he was. Then Michael drove through the night without sleep to pick him up and check him into a motel or give him to someone else. Back then it was rough, there were a lot of things left unsaid between them, and a lot of things said too much. When Michael would try to check Trevor into a motel he would sneer and ask Michael,  _ “Oh so I’m just the whore?”  _ despite it being Michael just trying to get Trevor somewhere to sober up. After Trevor started to feel better Michael would leave without saying goodbye, and could only think of how much he resented him on the ride home.

Now all Michael could think about were all of the ways he’d hurt Trevor in their life. He could still hear the pained cries as Trevor held Michael in his arms when he played dead. Sirens were blaring, dozens of cop’s racing through the fresh snow to claim Trevor’s head as their trophy. Michael hated Trevor but as he held Michael, sobbing that he was sorry and he didn’t want to leave him, he felt his pain like a million daggers through his heart. He still remembered the scream of anger when he realized he had to leave Michael, how he kissed him hard, promised he’d make this right.  _ I’ll make this right, T, dont worry.  _

But he also thought about the time they lost. They were  _ so happy  _ when they were kids. They were dirt poor, had no home, but they had each other. It was just them against the world, driving from town to town causing hell wherever they went. They’d blast their music as loud as they wanted and dance in front of the truck headlights. They would sleep in the back of the Bodhi holding each other talking about the Big One and how they’d do it. 

After Amanda had Tracey, he wanted to make an effort to be faithful to her and broke things off with Trevor. Trevor was beyond hurt, and disappeared until Tracey was two and Michael had asked Amanda to marry him. At their wedding, Trevor was Michael’s best man, got high in the bathroom, and walked home before the end of the reception. After that, Michael stayed faithful to Amanda for a full year, trying desperately to convince himself to fall in love with her. But it barely took a whisper for him to break his vow. It took one night with Trevor under the stars, and then there they were, fucking in the back of Trevor’s Bodhi, declaring their love for one another into the night.

After that it was just years of Trevor and Michael on and off. For a while they were good together, Michael told Trevor where they were moving and what their names would be, and Trevor would follow. He became the semi-permanent third parent of the Townley kids, showing up at school events and parent teacher conferences when Michael couldn’t. He was the one who beat the shit out of the fathers of two kids who called Jimmy a pig and oinked at him. He was the one who carried Tracey to bed when she fell asleep waiting for Michael to come home. He was the one who packed the kids lunches and knew their favourite colors and what their imaginary friends were called. He was invited to every tea party with Tracey and got to play any video game he wanted with Jimmy. He usually had a guest bedroom in the house they were staying in once they found their way out of the trailer park, otherwise he’d sleep in his Bodhi if it was hot enough outside or on the couch.

For those few years Michael had nothing to worry about, aside from the obvious. He’d tried to keep him and Trevor’s relationship a secret from the kids and even Amanda. But he was happy. Trevor was with him, and his kids were happy, and he was finally starting to make enough cash to buy Amanda that white picket house in the suburbs she always wanted. 

Things only started to fall apart when Trevor began to tire of that fake domestic life. He knew he wasn’t truly apart of the Townley/Dunne/Andersen/Callahan/Thomas family. Jimmy and Tracey didn’t come from him, and Michael was married to Amanda. He slept wherever they’d set a place for him,  _ “It's like i’m a fucking animal to you”  _ he’d spit at Michael. Him and Michael only went out to rent a room and fuck, and Michael would normally leave before Trevor awoke because Amanda called him home.

Trevor never wanted any of that, Michael knew it was cruel to force him into it. Trevor’s only family was Michael’s, but the kids weren’t his, Amanda despised him, and Michael wasn’t even truly his _.  _ Michael’s only excuse back then was “ _ I wanted this for us too, but things happen alright? I didn’t plan on getting Amanda pregnant!”  _ But it wasn’t enough. Trevor would start disappearing for weeks on end, eventually forcing Michael to go out searching for him. He’d purposely be high during Heist meetings, call the landline at Michael’s house to yell at him, send the kids birthday presents in the mail instead of showing up to the parties.

Michael knew he did have a stake in ruining Trevor’s life, there was no doubt about that. When they were young and Trevor would so happily recount tales of child abuse like they were warm family memories to Michael. He’d tell him how his mother would punish him for using the wrong tone of voice with her by locking him in the closet until he passed out from screaming. Or how his father would force him to kill his pets as a party trick for his friends. It killed Michael to hear these stories, he’d tighten his grip on his lover and bite his tongue, knowing that he wasn’t allowed to comment. Michael use to wonder who Trevor would have been if someone took notice of the obvious abuse he endured as a child. He tried to imagine what kind of person Trevor could’ve been if  _ one  _ person had cared about him as a child. 

Now Michael wondered what kind of person Trevor would’ve been without Michael. He wondered if he would be better off without him. Would he have found a way to go straight? He only ever did crime because Michael introduced it to him. He tried to imagine Trevor, well adjusted Trevor, with a white picket fence, a sweater vest and loafers. Beyond that he couldn’t imagine who Trevor would’ve been like. Would he have fallen so hard in love with someone else if Michael hadn’t chosen to fly in Trevor’s plane? Would he have his own wife or husband he resented and two children of his very own to hate? Would he be in therapy trying to find the obvious root of his problems? Michael couldn’t be sure, the concept was too abstract for him. 

As Michael pulled up to Sandy Shores a sense of nostalgia filled him. Months ago he was stranded here with Trevor. He referred to that period as  _ Fear and Loathing in Sandy Shores,  _ but no one knew the movie he was referencing. 

Now he was back, not to fix a relationship, but to hopefully save Trevor from whatever had consumed him.

Ron was across the street from the trailer with his binoculars watching the trailer. In Trevor’s driveway was a van with the Deludamol logo on the sides. Michael pulled up beside him, grabbing the after party bag. “How’s he doin’?” Michael asked,

“He ain't left the trailer, I don't think”

“You don't  _ think _ ?” Michael spat

“I aint seen him leave! But it's quiet now, he stopped yelling a while ago”

_ Fuck.  _ “Alright, I’ll take care of things. Get rid of that van, and get some shut eye. Thanks”  _ Don't worry sir, the professional Trevor Philips Clean Up Team is here to help now. _

Ron nodded, but remained in his spot watching as Michael went up to the trailer. 

It had been trashed since Patricia had left, that was for sure. It had that classic Trevor Philips smell to it again, the buzz of a distant radio could be heard behind the door.

Michael knocked on the front door, “T, it's me, Michael. I’m comin’ in so don't stab me or nothin’ alright?”

No response. 

The door was locked, which was a bad sign since Trevor never believed in locking his doors.  _ The fuck do I have to hide?!  _ He’d yell.

Michael backed up and effectively kicked the door open, a familiar song by  _ Heavens to Betsy  _ leaked out of the trailer.

Michael felt only dread and fear as he entered, hoping to god he wasn’t going to find Trevor dead somewhere. He couldn’t handle that kind of heartbreak, that belonged in the movies, not in real life. He didn’t want to be the one to bury Trevor, not tonight.

He found Trevor passed out on the ground wearing his floral dress, his head shaven, his hand bleeding. Michael ran over to him and dropped to his knees, grabbing Trevor up by his shoulders and shaking him. Trevor kept his eyes shut, mumbling quietly to himself.  _ Well he’s alive at least.  _

Michael attempted to carry Trevor up to his bedroom, but forgot how fucking  _ heavy  _ someone was when they were passed out. Too much dead weight, and Michael was too fuckin’ old for that. He instead struggled to gingerly place Trevor on the couch and grab himself a chair to sit in.

Michael put the back of his hand against Trevor’s head. It was cold and clammy, he didn’t know what that meant, but he was happy he wasn’t burning up. He leaned in to kiss Trevor’s newly shaved head, whispering, “I’m here, T. I’m here now”

He reached for the bag and zipped it open. He let Trevor rest his hand on his leg as he grabbed out the first aid kit. Trevor’s cut wasn’t terribly drastic, not like the last wound Michael had to treat when he stayed in Sandy Shores. It just needed to be cleaned and bandaged, and hopefully Trevor wouldn’t eat the scab. 

Michael took out a disposable alcohol swab and pressed it against the wound, effectively waking Trevor up screaming,  _ “MA! _ ”

Michael reached over, grabbing Trevor’s cheek and trying to bring him back in from wherever he was. “Trevor, Trevor, I’m here, you’re okay, I’m here, alright?”

“Michael...Michael, Michael, Michael you…you left me” he slurred, his eyes going down to his cut hand that Michael held. “You cut me? You’re a real bitch”

“No, I think you cut yourself. I just got here. T, what did you take?”

“I dont know...I dont know...drugs dont do anything to me...I’m like steel, they call me Trevor ‘Steel’ Philips, or they would have if they liked me…” Trevor started hitting himself with his free hand in frustration, “FUCK!  _ Nobody likes me! Everyone hates me! I’m poison! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” _

Michael instinctively wrapped his arms around Trevor, letting him scream into his suit jacket. He knew Trevor when he was like this, he’d try to hit his head against the wall or cut himself or try to drown himself. He took this kind of pain out on himself, but it was easy to ease, he just needed to be held.

“Hey, hey, I like you” Michael whispered, patting his back, “I love you, Trevor. That's why I’m here”

“You left me” he was trying not to cry, but he already was. He was growling into Michael’s neck, tightening his grip on his suit.

“I know, I know I did. But I’m never gonna do that again. I’m not leaving this time, T. I ain't got nowhere to be but here with you”

That helped some. Michael felt Trevor loosen his muscles, and then felt him falling asleep on him. Michael slowly helped Trevor lay back down, talking him through the process. “I’m gonna clean your hand, alright? Dont fuckin’ bite me, I dont want rabies” or at least, he semi-talked him through it.

“You..wish, cowboy” Trevor murmured with a smile as he shut his eyes. 

For the next few minutes Trevor slept as Michael cleaned his hand. There was always a considerable layer of dirt and grime on Trevor, so Michael wasn’t surprised that it took all six alcohol swabs to clean the infected area. Afterwards he put a large bandaid over it, and kissed the padding. 

He sat with Trevor while he slept, holding his hand in his, kissing his knuckles that read  _ “Fuck”.  _ He remembered when he got that tattoo because immediately after Jimmy said “Fuck” for the first time, at least in front of Amanda and Michael. Trevor was in the corner laughing with Tracey.

As he held his lips against Trevor’s knuckles, Michael wondered who he would have been without having known Trevor Philips. He would probably have kept ending up in prison, he didn’t have a reason to stay out. He didn’t have anyone, his own mother disowned him after he dropped out of high school. He knew lots of folks before Trevor, even had a few boyfriends. But none of them stayed, not like Trevor. 

He’d probably be dead, probably. He wouldn’t have run into Amanda if he and Trevor hadn’t decided to split and he stayed in the nearby town hoping that Trevor would come back to him. He wouldn’t have had Jimmy or Tracey, he wouldn’t have ever gotten to Los Santos, he wouldn’t have had nearly the exciting and exhausting life he’d lead. He wouldn’t have been targeted by Devin Weston, he wouldn’t have been blackmailed by the FIB to work for them, he wouldn’t have been kidnapped by the chinese gang. He’d probably have a lot less scar tissue and bad dreams. 

But despite all of the bullshit that came with having known Trevor Philips, he didn’t regret it. He thanked god that they’d met when they did and knew each other as long as they have. He was happier having known Trevor, he knew love. 

Trevor stirred awake eventually, bursting into another sobbing fit. Michael leaned over and held him, squeezing his hand. “Let it out, T. Its alright”

“Why does everyone I love leave me?” he cried,

“I ain't leavin’, T” Michael could only account for himself. Patricia  _ had  _ to go home, Mrs Phillips was a horrible woman and would be better off dead, but Michael was there, and he wasn’t leaving. Not this time.

“No one loves me. I’m so alone. No one loves me. Why does everyone leave me?”

Michael kissed his forehead, “I love you”

“You don't. You left me. You said you hated me, you...you snake. You’re a snake. But...But…” Trevor licked his lips trying to piece his words together. Michael saw his dry lips and reached over for one of the bottled waters, opening it and holding it for Trevor.

“Drink this, you’ll feel better” he said, helping Trevor to sit up and drink. But Trevor barely needed the help, he took the bottle and downed it all in one go, throwing the empty bottle on the other side of the room before laying back down. “What was that? That was horrible” he slurred,

“Water, Trev. It was water”

“Fish fuck in that”

Michael laughed, “I guess they do.”

“You know what I fuck in?” Trevor was already laughing to himself, “I fuck in...I fuck in....fuck, uh...I fucked you, Michael. I fucked you  _ a lot.  _ You got a little asshole for such a fat ass”

Michael grinned, “Last I checked  _ you  _ were the one who liked getting fucked. I think I actually got a pretty low dick score from you”

Trevor let out a high pitched laugh, “You said  _ dick _ ”

 

**2006**

Amanda De Santa was use to compromise and self sacrifice.

When she was a teenager she was homecoming queen, head cheerleader, and queen bee. But from a young age, Amanda accepted that she was never going to have an idyllic life.

Immediately after she graduated from high school she began working for her mother at her truckstop bar along with her two sisters. She watched as her parents stole all of her money and used it for themselves. She watched her older sister's struggle to find a way out of that life when they couldn’t even afford a studio apartment in the sticks. She accepted that this was her life, that she would dance her youth away and maybe if she was lucky, she’d be able to take over as bartender when she got too old.

She accepted this, and while she hated it, believed it was the only way her life could’ve panned out.

Then Michael Townley showed up.

Life with Michael wasn’t exactly how Amanda imagined married life. She was still making compromises and accepting parts of Michael she didn’t want to know. She would agree to drive into the night to meet him at some random truck stop with their one year old daughter in the hopes that at the end of the road, there was a bed for them to lay their heads on. She accepted that Michael couldn’t help being an absent figure in their child’s life due to work. She accepted that Michael marrying her was his attempt at showing affection. She accepted that she didn’t want to know where the ring came from. She accepted that Trevor Philips was always going to be a constant. She accepted that she’d never be able to meet anyone and not tell a lie again. She accepted that she had to clean more blood out of Michael’s clothes than she did the grass stains in Tracey’s soccer shirts. She accepted that she would always,  _ always,  _ be a second thought to anyone that ever knew her.

Amanda only knew how to accept facts that she couldn’t change. She knew disappointment because it raised her to be the woman she was. All she could tell herself was,  _ I’m not in the trailer park anymore, I’m not in the trailer park anymore. _

She was strong, resourceful, and competent. But she was also unsure of herself, afraid of the unknown, and feared being alone. In 2006 however, she was  _ exhausted,  _ and loneliness seemed less scary if she got a nap beforehand _.  _ That was why she so happily allowed Vanessa Evans through the gates of her home and ate cake with her by her pool sipping pink champagne. 

“I don't know why the fuck I try” she breathed as Vanessa cut her a large slice of cake, “Y’know, I do fucking cardio, I do facials, I get my hair done, I always look nice! I always  _ fucking look nice!  _ But he what, he wants to fuck some fucking blonde bitch from the club?”

“Honey, you’re downright  _ gorgeous.  _ And I ain’t just sayin’ that because I just met you neither” Vanessa had a sweet voice that made Amanda feel at home, like anything she said had to be true because it sounded so sweet coming from her lips. “You’re prettier than any doll I’ve ever seen”

“I wish my husband agreed” Amanda scoffed, “God...I’m a fucking idiot. We moved out here and I thought things would be different but it's just the same shit”

Vanessa gave Amanda her slice of cake. Amanda watched as Vanessa licked the bit of frosting on her finger. “Honey, if LS is good for anything, it's making people believe it's paradise. You know what it's built on top of?”

“Bullshit and lies?”

Vanessa laughed, making Amanda feel a little validated that someone actually thought she was funny. “Its built on top of tar pits. But you dress anything up with enough glitz and glam and you could fool anyone, me and you? We’re just two victims of a city that's been promising fresh starts for  _ years _ ”

“Yeah well, I wish I had known before I came out here” Amanda sighed, “How’d you end up out here?”

“What, you think I’m not from San Andreas?” Vanessa huffed. Amanda backed down, realizing she must’ve hit a soft spot, but Vanessa quickly went back to her friendly disposition. “It's fine...I’m uh...I’m from Texas. My husband paid  _ a lot  _ of money to get me to sound like i’m from here, but, I can't even convince a stranger”

“No, no! I just assumed because…” Amanda didn’t know how to lie like this. She never  _ had  _ to lie like this. They were always moving, there was never a reason to be nice to someone and make friends because they’d just start over in a new place a few months later. But this was the first woman who seemed to take genuine concern in Amanda’s life, even if she was a complete stranger. 

“It's alright, I ain't mad. I don't really care if anyone knows i’m from here or not, I don't give a shit. I  _ know  _ I’m midwest trash, I ain't ashamed! I got a house in the Vinewood hills, enough money to buy a small island, and tits that haven’t bottomed out”

Amanda laughed, she wished she could be like that. Well, she  _ was _ like that. She lived in a mansion in the Rockford Hills, enough money to buy a small island, and she didn’t have implants, but her breasts weren’t something for her to be ashamed of. For the first time in years, Amanda didn’t feel so alone. 

“He’s gonna come home later today, and he’s either gonna pretend it didn’t happen or he’s gonna fight me” She sighed,

“You gonna let him back in your house?”

“It's not mine, I didn’t pay for it. Besides, where else would I go? People in Los Santos aren’t exactly friendly”

“I’m friendly”

Amanda smiled, “Yeah, you are. But...Me and Michael promised to be with each other, through thick and thin, rich or poor, and hell we’ve been both”

Vanessa put her hand on Amanda’s knee, her soft brown eyes watching her. “You got a friend in me”

 

**2014**

Trevor slept through most of the following day, only waking up a handful of times to throw up in a bucket Michael held for him, or piss outside the window before returning to the couch. 

Michael stayed awake and by his side, texting Amanda to update on what was going on as well as how the kids were taking the news. According to her, Jimmy seemed to be all for selling the place if it meant they got a better house. Tracey on the other hand was on the fence about leaving the only home she’s ever known, but also the site of one of the most traumatic experiences of her life. 

Michael took a quick nap at around 6am hoping to wake up if Trevor needed him, but he ended up sleeping until the afternoon in the chair he sat in. 

When he did awaken there was Trevor sitting upright, rubbing his forehead, groaning. 

“How long you been up?” Michael asked sleepily as he stretched.

“Fuck you” Was all that came from Trevor, “What’r you even doin’ here, Sugar Tits? You’re so damn needy”

“Ron called, said you were having a hard time. He was right, so I took care of you”

“ _ Took care of me?  _ Oh well la de da, no wonder your kids turned out so good with you falling asleep on the job” Trevor jabbed back as he slowly began to lift his head, 

“Hey fuck you”

“No  _ fuck  _ you, Townley, you fuckin’ asshole. I’m gonna kill Ron” Trevor stood, pushing Michael out of the way as he went to the medicine cabinet in his bathroom. “You can go now”

“What no thank you? What if I wanna stay?” Michael asked as he leaned against the frame of the bathroom door.

“I don't want you here” Trevor mumbled as he threw some painkillers in his mouth, “I’m busy”

“Busy doing  _ what?  _ You had a fuckin’ meltdown yesterday, and I don't even know why!”

“ _ Me, me, me,  _ it's aaaaalways about you, what a surprise” Trevor groaned. He pushed Michael away and went to his bedroom to take off his soiled dress covered in dirt, blood, and bits of his vomit. Michael shook his head, trying to figure out what was going on inside his head. From the side of his eyes he watched Trevor remove his dress, watched how his back muscles moved as he pulled it up above his head.  

“I thought we were past this! I thought we made up, I killed for you, man! I saved your life!”

“You saved your own damn skin!” Trevor barked. 

Michael watched him slip into his old beat up sweatpants, he could literally see the holes from where Trevor had been shot a few months prior. Trevor didn't bother putting on shirt, which Michael wasn't going to complain about. “So what, we’re not friends, still? You want me to fuck off and die? You want me to fucking leave you?”

“I want you to leave me alone!” Trevor’s voice cracked as he shouted, but he frowned, quickly wanting to take back that last statement. He wasn’t going to cry, he could faintly remember doing that in the past twenty hours and it made him sick to think about. If Michael brought it up, he’d kill him. But he didn’t want Michael to leave, he wanted the opposite. “I...I don't mean that”

Michael calmed as he saw Trevor doing the same. Trevor now peacefully walked over to him and gently pushed him aside, making his way to the fridge and taking out two beers. He threw one to Michael and sat on the kitchen counter. “I haven't exactly been having a very good homecoming, Mikey.”

Michael chuckled, breaking the cap off on the side of the counter. “Yeah, I’ll say. What happened?”

“Mother”

Michael looked away, scratching the side of his neck. He hadn’t seen the woman in years, not since him and Trevor were still together, back when Ryan was still alive. But he knew the woman, he knew what she did to Trevor. How she was the only force in the world that could bring him to his feet. Michael hated her, he wanted her dead, he wanted to be the one to kill her, to rid the world of her poison. 

“She still in town?” Michael asked trying to contain his rage. 

Trevor shook his head sadly. “Left while I was gone”

“I’m sorry, buddy. I am”

Trevor gave him a quick smile before he went back to remembering the whole ordeal. He wasn’t even completely sure if it was real, if Betty Philips was truly in his trailer yesterday. He wanted to believe she was, that she still cared enough about him to find him. His trailer still smelled like her, there was even a cup in the sink with her orange lipstick. It didn't matter, she left him, didn’t she?  _ Why would she stay? Look at me, I’m a fucking fool, a fucking mess, i’m poison. _

Then he felt a familiar hand on his back, those light green eyes staring into his soul. “It's alright, you don't gotta talk about if you don't want to. You don't need to think about it either”

“I didn’t want her to see me like this” Trevor said sadly, 

“Why the hell not?”

Trevor shot him a glare, but he didn’t know the answer either. 

“Trev, you’re a fuckin’ millionaire! You own your own god damn company, you have an aircraft hangar, you got your own place. More than that, you’re a fuckin’ legend!” Michael beamed, but Trevor wasn’t budging. He use to be able to take compliments, Michael taught him how when they were young. Now he didn't remember, it all just felt like lies to him and he hated lies.

“Why are you being so nice to me, Michael Townley?” Trevor hissed as he narrowed his eyes, 

“I’m  _ trying  _ to be your god damn friend, T” 

“Yeah well don't be, it’ll be easier for me next time you stab in the back”

“Trevor! I’m not gonna fuckin’ do that again, I’m not! Jesus, tell me what I need to do, huh? Because I’m  _ trying,  _ but I’m fucking flying blind here, bro. I mean you disappear for a few months and now we’re back to square one?”

Trevor didn’t say anything. His brain felt like it was going to explode and his eyeballs felt like sandpaper against his skull. He just downed his beer in one go, letting out one long belch before he threw the bottle on the ground. He stayed sitting on the counter, eyes shut, trying to wish Michael away.

“Me and Amanda are getting a divorce” Michael finally said,

This made Trevor smile, but for more sinister reasons, “Whose she leaving you for? Someone prettier? I bet it's someone who looks like me”

Michael shrugged, “I don't know who. But we both decided we want this, so we’re splitting as soon as the state of San Andrea’s lets us”

“Well congratulations bro, finally you can restart the cycle of shittiness by finding  _ another  _ depressed stripper and impregnating her with your sperm, only to disappoint both her and the spawn that will be” Trevor chuckled, “God watch over whatever sap gets stuck with you”

Trevor already figured out the next line of conversation. Michael would say he’s leaving San Andrea’s, he’d say it just to spite Trevor, just to make him really feel like shit. He’d say that he already met someone too, or that he’s had a mistress this whole time and he’s marrying her. It didn’t even make Trevor said, he was too use to being discarded, he was abandoned often enough that he just outright expected it.

“I know you hate me, T” Michael started, he was looking down now at the tiles on the ground, Trevor’s blood already dry against the linoleum. “But I care a lot about you. I never stopped caring about you--”

“Not to be a dick, and bring it up again, but... _ Ludernoff _ ”

“Yeah,  _ Ludernoff _ . But the happiest times of my life have been with you, Trev.”

Trevor felt something rising up inside of him he wanted to believe was just vomit. But then Michael put his beer down, and stood between Trevor’s legs, holding his hands. Trevor raised his gaze upward to see Michael giving him those eyes, those eyes that saw straight past all the walls Trevor put up, all of the rage and self-hatred, and saw him for who he really was.  _ God I hate him,  _ he thought. 

“I don't wanna lose anymore time, T. I want us to be like we were before.”

Trevor pushed Michael away with all of what was left of his strength. He jumped up from the counter and stormed to the front door, holding it open for Michael. “Get the fuck out”

“The fuck is your problem?”

Michael didn’t understand, it just couldn’t make sense to him. For years Trevor would whisper to Michael how he would strangle Amanda in her sleep so he could be his. He’d say on his birthday that he wished for Michael to run away with him. Now Michael was here, and he wanted the same thing he thought Trevor wanted. But he was radiating hot rage, acting as if Michael had just called him a Canadian mother fucker. 

“Get. Out” He hissed through his teeth.

Michael obliged, leaving his beer behind. He lingered at the door, the two of them sharing one last gaze. “I’ll be around, T”

“Whatever”

Ron was across the street watching through his binoculars. 

 

Michael spent most of his life being someone everyone wanted. In High School he had a steady stream of girlfriends, college football teams lining up to get him to sign up with their schools, and teachers falling over to give him good grades so that he’d do well at the big games. Even in prison he was popular, he made most of his contacts and long time friends on the inside. Michael was born with a silver tongue and a mind that could come up with a thousand lies a second, and he never squandered those talents. He had an endless line of people he could use if things got rough, because everyone wanted to please him. 

Then he got older. 

Friends started dying, the sting of being cut from the football team still hurt, less people were willing to believe an old man telling lies. Michael wanted to believe he’d be young forever, but before he knew it he had a wife and two kids and grey hairs. 

Still he wanted to believe he was that cool kid from the midwest who could get anyone wrapped around his finger. He’d wondered in the years apart from Trevor if that's why they worked so well. Because Michael and Trevor both needed to feel wanted.

But now Michael realized that like so many things, he was wrong about that too.

Not even in his wildest dreams could he imagine Trevor turning him down, and not in the way it had gone down. Trevor wasn’t one for passive action, the fact that he just told Michael to hit the road made him angry that he couldn’t figure out  _ why.  _ Trevor was the guy who would bury men alive who had looked at him wrong, stick a broken bottle up a biker’s ass who had a bad vibe about him. Trevor was all action, did everything with passion and fire, but he just discarded Michael like he was an empty can of beer.

Michael found himself sitting across the Alamo Sea from Trevor’s trailer sitting in his car with the AC blasting. He kept checking his phone, hoping that it would ring as he held it in his hands, that maybe Trevor was going to come back to him. Instead all Michael saw was the gentle blue hue of his phone background, taunting him.

He felt that this was what he deserved, didn’t he? He’d always used Trevor, jerked him around, tested him to see how dedicated he was. Michael loved Trevor, but he also knew he was a prick to him when he was bored. For years in therapy when he was imagining Trevor as this evil red monster, he told himself that this kind of treatment was justified. Friedlander nodded along when Michael lied and said that he fucked with Trevor because Trevor was the guilty party, and not Michael. Didn’t he kill without remorse? Get high and then stab himself so that Michael would pay attention to him? And what about the countless times he endangered his and Michael’s lives just for fun?

No, those were piss poor excuses, and Michael knew it.

Michael killed without remorse, he had no problem with it. Trevor only ever stabbed himself to get Michael’s attention that one time the cops were holding them up so that they could escape. And it's not as if Michael didn’t do things that endangered the lives of everyone around him, including Trevor.

_ We’re a match made in heaven, baby.  _ Michael took out a pack of redwoods and got out of his car. The air from across the Alamo Sea was crisp as it rolled off of Mount Chilliad. It was a stark difference from the stagnant heat of the Grand Senora Desert that Michael hated. At least out in the woods the trees hid all of the ugliness of San Andrea’s. Any dead bodies were decaying under a pile of foliage. Cars abandoned years ago rotted in between two hills and had become home to the elk and deer in the forest. Drug deals were hidden by nature, the smell of pines hid the smell of meth. It was like Los Santos, it may be corrupt and disgusting, but at least it looked good while doing it.

Michael sat on the hood of his car smoking, letting time roll past him. He thought about doing this next part of his life alone. He’d lived it all now, so what was left for him? Solomon had decided to hold off on his retirement to make one last film with Michael as the writer and producer. Michael already had an idea, a movie idea he’d had since he was twenty years old, one that would knock the audience out of their seats. It was a dream come true for him, but in the moment it all felt so blasé. So what if he made another film? What would happen to him once Solomon retired? Michael had just started making a name for himself in the film business, but without Solomon to make connections he was just the thug from Richards Majestic. 

He didn’t want to be a cleaner anymore. Killing and intimidating was fine if it was for Solomon, but for anyone else it would make Michael violent. He had too much rage inside of him, and the last thing he needed were a couple of two-bit Vinewood phonies who barely gave a shit about their movies telling Michael De Santa what to do. 

He supposed he could spend his time trying to be a better father figure to his kids. Go with Jimmy to job interviews or take him to Ponsoby’s to buy a new suit. Help Tracey study for her finals or drive her to classes. But in all actuality, Michael wasn’t exactly  _ sure  _ what to do with his kids. He wasn’t exactly sure what Tracey was studying, and he didn’t even know where Jimmy was applying to. Of course he was going to take an active interest, but despite all he’d lived through in the past year he still wasn’t very good at being a father to his children.

No, it was all too bleak, too boring, too grey. He might as well be wasting away by his pool again, letting the sun melt his brain and wrinkle his skin. What was the point?

Amanda had the right idea. She fell in love, stayed in love, and was running off into the sunset. She would be happy, starting her life however she wanted and doing what she wanted.

If there was one thing Michael was willing to admit it was that he couldn’t  _ do  _ the alone thing. It wasn’t him, he couldn’t handle that.

He wanted someone with him, someone to hold, someone to invest his time in. He hated coming home to an empty house, sitting on the couch and drinking whiskey trying to forget how lonely he was. He couldn’t do being alone, it was too terrifying for him. Even when he was a kid there was always someone home. Be it his father skulking around in the dark of the trailer with a bottle of beer or his mother cowering in the corner. Michael took comfort in that no matter what he had someone near him, he needed to be near someone, anyone. Loneliness was something he’d never been able to handle.

Now it was staring him down, that the person he always thought would be there didn’t want to be. Even when Trevor  _ hated  _ Michael, he was still around. Outside his house taking notes, or sending him drunk texts. The only time Trevor had truly abandoned Michael was after they went to his grave in North Yankton. And even then immediately after he sent him a text after Franklin picked him up asking, “ _ u gud? _ ”

Before Michael knew it he wasn’t even smoking anymore. He was just punching the air and screaming. He hoped someone driving by would stop and ask what was wrong so he could beat the shit out of them. He wanted to feel something other than the shittiness he felt inside of him. He wanted to feel his fist hitting someone’s cheek, the sound of their teeth cracking under his knuckles. He wanted to take someone’s face and turn it to a scarlet red pulp with just his bare hands.  _ You’re full of rage, Michael. We just have to find a way to get it out in a healthy way,  _ Friedlander would say.

“Oh i’m full of something, doc! But it aint fucking that!” He yelled into the Alamo Sea.  _ Alamo Sea, it's not even a sea, it's a fucking lake, it's a fucking puddle, what a crock of shit.  _ He wanted to punch the guy who named the Alamo sea right in the dick. 

“You’re full of shit”

Michael turned around and saw Trevor standing there beside his car. He’d cleaned himself up, looked like he’d taken a shower after Michael left. He was wearing Michael’s old jean jacket over his flannel, Michael wanted to say he looked like poster child for middle aged hipsters everywhere. 

“How long you been there?” Michael panted. He felt himself become hot, he was beyond embarrassed. How long was Trevor watching him have a full blown temper tantrum in the middle of the wilderness? It wouldn’t be the first time he witnessed something like that, but it was still unbelievably embarrassing for Michael.

Trevor shrugged, “We gotta have words”

“You’re tellin’ me” Michael wiped his mouth, grabbing another cigarette out of his pack. Trevor grabbed it out of his fingers and threw it on the ground.

“That shit’ll kill you, buddy” He smirked,

Michael sighed, taking a seat on the hood of his car. Trevor leaned back, reached into his back pocket and withdrew a folded over note. It was old, Michael could see the dried blood stains on it, the dirt and dust in its creases. Trevor opened it up to himself, but kept it away from Michael. “I uh, I wrote this. After you kicked the can, or,  _ faked  _ kicking the can. I read it to your grave”

Michael bit his tongue. Since the whole ordeal months ago, Michael thought that Ludernoff 2004 was probably on the list of topics he had no business debating with Trevor. So he just nodded, crossing his arms.

_ “M, _

_ You are a bitch. You are a lying sack of shit, and I hate you, you fucking turd. I hate you because you promised me you’d never die and you’d never leave me. Or at least you’d be the one to kill me so I wouldn’t need to be alive without you. But here you are, six feet under, getting eaten by worms who don't even deserve to eat you. _

_ I didn’t think I could ever love someone like I loved you. I didn’t that how I felt about you could be real, that it had to be because of something I ate. But I never stopped loving you, and I don't think I ever will. Thanks to you, I know love, but now I know loneliness too, asshole.  _

_ You’re my best friend, and I love you, but you’re a dick for leaving me here. Save a spot for me in hell, brother. I’ll be there soon.  _

_ Trevor” _

Michael inhaled quietly, trying to not imagine Trevor reading that to the grave of Michael Townley. He tried to not think about how it would’ve been months before Trevor could get back to Ludernoff unseen. How he would’ve looked so  _ exhausted  _ from running, how he probably hadn’t slept in days from the paranoia. He didn’t want to think about how the snow would’ve begun melting into grey puddles under Trevor’s beat up boots covered in blood. He tried especially hard to not imagine how Trevor probably couldn’t read that letter, how he would just end up screaming at Michael’s grave for leaving him. He tried to not think about how there was a good chance that Trevor broke his hand punching the headstone. 

“I’m sorry” Michael apologized,

“You’re the biggest fuckin’ asshole I’ve ever known, Townley” Trevor growled, “But I was lost without you”

“I’m sorry”

“ _ I’m sorry _ ” Trevor mimicked, “Jesus can you have a fuckin’ conversation? I just read to you the barebones of my  _ soul _ . This shit basically reads like a suicide note, and you’re just  _ sorry _ ”

“What’d you want me to say?” Michael didn’t mean it how it came out, not like he was bored with the conversation and wanted it to end. He wanted to say something to make all of that pain inside of Trevor go away for good, to erase all of his past transgressions. But that wasn’t going to happen in one day.

“I don't want you to  _ say  _ anything, shitface. I want...I want…” Trevor threw up his hands, pacing around in front of the car. He had one hand in his pocket and the other around the top of his head. He wasn’t use to not having hair, he always pulled it back when he was thinking or pulled at it when he was stressed. “I want you to treat me like you like me. I want you...to  _ care  _ about me, alright?”

“I do care!” Michael cried, “Trevor I fucking  _ love  _ you!”

“Then prove it!” Trevor scoffed, shaking his head. “Dont just show up at my door, asking for me and you to be like fuckin’ teenagers fucking under the bleachers, alright? We got  _ history,  _ Mikey.”

Michael stood up, slowly making his way over to Trevor who stopped pacing once Michael started moving. He stood with his fists balled up at his sides, his eyes shut and his head down, breathing hard. 

Michael put his cold nicotine stained hands on Trevor’s warm cheeks. He didn’t have so many scrapes and bruises after they killed Weston. But Michael could still make out a small cut on his forehead, he wanted to kiss it but didn’t want to test his hand. He was ready for Trevor to punch him in the throat and tell him to keep his filthy hands to himself. But Trevor was calm, kept his eyes shut, and let Michael rest his hands on the sides of his face. “Trev, I’ll fuckin’ prove it to you. As long as I got time on this earth, i’m gonna fuckin’ prove that you’ve always been my one and only baby. I was just a fuckin’ idiot and I let time get in our way”

Trevor chuckled, opening his eyes, “Gay”

“Yeah, yeah. So can I hug you, or are you gonna fuckin’ shank me?”

“Mmm, I don't know, Sugar Tits. Lets see”

Trevor wrapped his arms around Michael and pulled him in so tight that Michael let out a wheeze. Just as he was about to pat Trevor on the back, he felt something on his leg. “You got a fuckin’ hard on? You just read me the most depressing letter ever, dude”

“Sadness makes me lonely, and you know what loneliness does to old Trev” he snickered,

“You’re a fuckin’ mess. I love you, man”

“Didn’t you say the same thing to Amanda on your wedding day?”

Michael laughed, playfully pushing Trevor away. Trevor was smiling, and Michael was too. The afternoon sun was starting to duck behind the mountains, the air becoming colder. Both men looked at each other, taking in their mutual wrinkles and scars. “Shit we’re old” Trevor laughed, “You more than me”

“What i’m not pretty anymore?”

“Mmm, I think you may have me beat for Creepy Uncle. Have you considered plastic surgery?”

“Yeah well at least I still got a full head of hair, and I never had a fuckin’ mustache” Michael scoffed, “How’s that whole...shaved head thing goin’?”

Trevor put a hand on top of his head, and sighed. “If someone calls me a fuckin’ skinhead I’m gonna stick my foot up their ass”

“Aw c’mon, I don't think you look like a white supremacist. Maybe a very angry baby, but not a white supremacist”

“Said the cult worshiper”

“ _ Alleged _ ”

“Thanks, by the way...For showing up when you did. I would’ve been fine but…” Trevor trailed off. He was still tired from the whole ordeal and had only really been awake a few hours. He went back to the car and sat up against the hood. “I’m happy you showed up, M”

“I’m happy I could be there for you. You kill Ron?”

“No” Trevor sighed, “But, soon, I will. Eventually”

“Just so I’m sure, Ron isn’t any competition for me right? I don't need to worry about Ron showing me up?” Michael joked,

“Well, Ron is loyal,  _ but,  _ he disgusts me. You disgust me too, but, I love you for it”

“Suck my dick, asshole”

“Want me to?” Trevor chuckled putting an arm around him.

“What we goin’ to third fuckin’ base on our first…”

“ _ This.  _ This right here? It ain't a date, Michael. My  _ god! _ ”

Michael snickered, putting a hand in Trevor’s back jean pocket, giving it a small squeeze just to test the waters. Trevor let him, but gave him a wily look. “Trevor Philips, can I ask you something?”

“What?”

“Will you rob a convenience store with me?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter took so long to go up everybody! I couldn't have finish it w/o the help of Buscemies who beta read a segment of this chapter for me <33  
> Thank you to everyone leaving comments and kudos! I hope y'all enjoy this chapter!
> 
> xoxo,  
> Daaarlings

**2007**

Amanda’s favourite thing about being with Vanessa is that there was never any fuss. 

Vanessa was truly comfortable in her skin, and wanted everyone else to feel comfortable too. She was a real people pleaser, if she saw Amanda was having a bad time while they were at the beach she’d suggest going to a movie instead. If Amanda didn’t like who they were talking to, Vanessa would find a seamless way to get out of the conversation. If Amanda was overwhelmed, Vanessa would suggest they do yoga together.

This kind of affection was new to her. Sure in the past she’d had boyfriends who might take her out to her favourite waffle house  when she seemed gloomy, but not like Vanessa did. If Amanda called  her to talk about how much she hated Michael, Vanessa would show up at her door with snacks and a good chick flick. 

Amanda wanted to be dependable for Vanessa as much as she was to her. Vanessa barely spoke about her husband, and if asked about her family she would gush about how her son was going to law school and she was so proud of him. Amanda understood her need to talk about things that weren’t her (asshole) husband; they had their ways of coping with respectively horrible marriages. Still,  Amanda felt like there was a barrier she couldn’t cross, and she couldn’t figure out what it was.  She didn’t want to push things, she didn’t want to push her away. They’d only known each other for a year and already Amanda couldn’t imagine her life without her best friend. 

She just wanted to be there for Vanessa as much as she was there for her. Amanda  didn’t want Vanessa to think she was all drama, all the time and couldn’t be useful to her. She wanted to prove herself to her, prove that she could be an equally supportive and caring friend 

So when Vanessa called her  crying into the phone, she was already putting on her sneakers. 

“Whats wrong? Nessa, Nessa are you okay?”

“I-I don't know, Dolly” She was hyperventilating.With each breath Amanda felt her heart breaking and her blood rushing. Whatever happened, Amanda was gonna knock someone’s teeth out of their fucking skull. “Can you stay with me tonight?”

“Of course!” Amanda cried out grabbing her car keys, “Where are you? I can pick you up, I’ll set up a space for you in Tracey’s room”

“I’m staying at the Jetty, I just don’t want to be alone”

_ The Jetty? That fancy hotel by the highway?  _ “I’ll be there soon. What’s your room number?”

“Room 506, and Dolly?”

“Yeah?” (

“Thank you. You’re a good friend”

Amanda felt herself smiling and her chest flutter, _ I’m not that great, but thanks anyway.  _

She hung up, yelling out to Michael that she would be home the next morning, that he needed to watch the kids for her. He immediately started asking if she was going out with her lover, but she was too panicked to fight him.She told him she had to go, and she’d be back in the morning.

Before she knew it she was driving down the highway in the middle of the night, the summer breeze blowing through her hair. She felt like an asshole as she drove, wondering if she’d have time to do her makeup before she got  to Vanessa. She hadn’t even done her skin regimen for the night, her pores were clogged, her bags too noticeable even in the night light.  _ You look fine, Dolly,  _ Vanessa would say pinching her cheek,  _ You’re always gorgeous. _

_ I’m going to be useful, I’m going to help. I’m going to listen and be good and prove that I’m a good friend,  _ she kept telling herself on the way there.

Amanda had made more friends having known Vanessa. Vanessa didn’t have a problem fitting in with any given group of people, no trouble making friends out of strangers. Thanks to her, Amanda knew more women, had finally started spending more time away from the house. . She had friends for tennis, yoga -  even going to the country club and meeting  the other women who used to single her out and make her feel unwanted. But for every activity, every day - everytime - she had Vanessa. Who was always on standby, always ready for an adventure.

When Amanda got to the Jetty she didn’t even bother finding a real parking space. She hastily parked in a motorcycle space and ran out into the fancy hotel. As she entered she was met with bellhops asking if she needed someone to take her bags while  the receptionist welcomed her. Had she not been in a blind panic she would have soaked it all in, the crystal chandeliers, the chic modernist architecture, the fountain in the middle of the lobby. But in that  moment all these things were just obstacles. A nuisance, she thought. She waved them away, trying to disguise her panic as she made her way to the elevator. 

Once she got to Vanessa’s room she knocked softly, hoping that she wouldn’t scare her . Amanda  had no idea what could’ve happened to her. Vanessa, who took everything in stride, but never accepted mistreatment as a passive fact. Vanessa, who got the clerk at Ponsonbys fired because they gave her a certain  _ look _ . Vanessa, who purposely made jabs at judgemental women to their husbands at the Country Club. Vanessa seemed indomitable to Amanda, so whatever could’ve broken her, whatever someone had  _ done  _ to her, terrified her.

When she finally  threw the door open Amanda didn’t have a second to look at her before she had her arms wrapped around her friend. Vanessa sobbed into Amanda’s shoulder as she  gripped her as tight as she could. They stood in the doorway holding each other for what felt like an eternity for Amanda who wondered if she could take a moment to lace her fingers around Vanessa’s silky smooth hair.

Once Vanessa began to let go, she felt herself desperate to hold on longer. She wanted to hold Vanessa against her, hugging her so tight that whatever was troubling her would just bleed out and she’d be okay. Amanda loved touching Vanessa, she wanted her touch to heal Vanessa as much as Vanessa’s touch has healed her.

“Come inside, I got wine” Vanessa sniffled quickly, turning her face away from Amanda.

Amanda caught a brief glimpse of Vanessa, barefaced, no makeup, no glam, no glitz. She was hiding her face from her  as if she  had a  reason to hate her face. Her perfectly round race, button nose, and freckles  she tried so hard to cover up. 

Amanda entered the hotel room cautiously.  _ Don’t be a bitch,  _ she told herself as she caught a glimpse of herself in the full length mirror beside the door. She was wearing her yoga pants and a baggy t-shirt when Vanessa called. Amanda had her hair tied up in a sloppy bun, she could make out two grey hairs out the side of her head. 

Vanessa sat on the bed, pouring a glass of wine for her . Amanda gently sat down on the couch, scared that if she made Vanessa spill the wine it would be too much and she’d be asked to leave. She knew it was an erratic  thought, Vanessa wouldn’t do that, but Amanda feared too much of the unknown. 

Outside the waves crashed against the seaside. 

“What happened, Van?”

Vanessa handed Amanda her glass and grabbed her own off the trolley. It was almost completely filled to the brim with red wine, something that Amanda thought Vanessa hated as much as she did. After she took a sip and made a subsequent grimace, she inhaled sharply, shutting her eyes tight and shaking. 

“Someone...Some  _ bitch  _ at the club, fucking  _ Anita,  _ told Will. S-She’s a fucking snake, she had  _ no  _ business telling anyone that!”

“Telling him  _ what _ ?”

Vanessa opened her eyes overflowing with tears. Her eyes were always so soft on Amanda, they were always looking at her. But now they were desperate, flooding with tears, with fear, with sadness. Amanda could feel her desperation, like she was gripping so tightly to the only wall that she had up around Amanda. Her only secret, her only gate she kept under lock and key. And once she revealed it, once the words came out of her mouth, everything clicked for Amanda. “I’m gay, Amanda.”

All Amanda could do was laugh, what was she suppose to do? She’d never been in this situation. What was there to say? 

“You’re a lesbian?”

Vanessa recoiled at Amanda’s laughter. It was like Amanda had prodded her with a hot iron, and immediately she  regretted it. Amanda  put her wine glass down on the trolley, taking Vanessa’s hands in hers. “Hey, I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean to laugh”

“I’m an idiot” Vanessa whispered, letting her hands go limp in Amanda’s hands. “I didn’t know I was, not until after I married Will, not until after I had Caleb. Afterwards I just...told myself It was fine. I could be gay and be married to him, women make sacrifices everyday for men don't they?”

Amanda wanted to say,  _ fuck that, why should we have to be a doormat for them? Why should we have to suffer so they can live?  _ But then she remembered Michael at home, probably drunk, occasionally yelling up the stairs, “All good kids?” instead of going up stairs to check on them.

“If you didn’t tell anyone, how’d Anita even find out?” Amanda asked,

Vanessa laughed sadly to herself, shaking her head. “I told her, a year ago, maybe. I was drunk, we were out with friends. We were in the bathroom together, and she was asking me how I deal with Will. I told her,  _ I just pretend when I don’t see him I’m just waiting for the girl of my dreams.  _ I didn’t think she would even  _ remember,  _ let alone  _ tell him _ ” 

Amanda put a hand on Vanessa’s shoulder, a small crescent moon had been tattooed there years ago. Amanda remembered when she first saw Vanessa’s shoulders she wanted to get a matching star tattoo and kiss Vanessa’s moon. But she just shook her head,  _ You’re just lonely  _ she told herself. 

“Anita is a bitch, she’s a fucking cunt!” Amanda yelled, “She’s a dumb bitch, what right does she have to talk about your business? She can't even hold a fucking conversation!”

Vanessa laughed at Amanda’s rage, which made Amanda feel that she was healing some of the hurt in Vanessa little by little. 

“Dolly, you’re ridiculous” Vanessa sighed, 

Amanda felt a way she didn’t know how to feel. She was angry, but she wasn’t angry like when she realized that Michael was still in love with Trevor on their wedding night. She wasn’t angry like when Tracey told her that she hated her. She wasn’t mad like when Michael lied to her again and again. She was feeling pure unadulterated rage.

She wanted to go to Anita’s house in  Rockford Hills. She wanted to break the door in and hit Anita over the head with that fucking decorative horse statue she never shut the fuck up about. She wanted to beat her bloody, spit in her face, demand to know why she thought it was okay for her to say what she did, why it was okay for her to share something so personal. 

For a split second, she wondered,  _ does Michael ever feel this way? _

“Did he hurt you?” Amanda tried to make herself seem less upset than she was. Vanessa was the hurt party in this moment, and Amanda wasn’t about to rob her of it. Still she cared, she hurt, she wanted to beat the shit out of whoever let Vanessa feel this way.

“No” Vanessa sniffled, “He just...he told me to go. Said we’ll talk about our marriage tomorrow, I don't know what i’m gonna do, Dolly.”

Amanda knew that phrase, the immense fear behind it.  _ I don't know what i’m gonna do,  _ was what Amanda said  when she passed her pregnancy test, when she realized what she was getting married Michael, when she realized Los Santos wasn’t all she hoped it would be. 

“I’m here” Was all she could say, with as much tenderness and love she had in her heart. She wanted Vanessa to know, to  _ really  _ know, that Amanda was there, and she wasn’t going anywhere. Even if her and Michael had to change their names and cut all ties, Amanda would never leave Vanessa. 

She leaned in close, her original intention to just put her forehead against hers. But at the last moment she craned her neck, shutting her eyes. The next moment her and Vanessa were holding one another, kissing each other with so much care. 

Amanda got her hands on Vanessa’s long blonde hair, and wrapped it around her fingers. Vanessa felt so soft against her, everything about her was soft and sweet. Her lips tasted like the sweetest of wines, she smelled like the purest Vanilla, she moved like a dancer. Amanda could feel her tears against her cheeks, she wanted to kiss them away.

_ I love her. _

Amanda pulled herself away, and pushed Vanessa away. 

Vanessa stared at her friend with wide eyes . Vanessa was used to heartbreak, especially with women. Amanda wondered how many times Vanessa had her heart broken by a girl. When she was a little girl in the south did her heart break seeing girls kissing boys behind church thinking that she’d never be like that? Did she fear looking at other dancers when she worked in the club, for fear that she’d be outed and booted? How often did she lay awake at night trying to figure out who she was?

Maybe. Maybe not. But Amanda realized, she had felt all of those things, she’d lived those things. Didn’t she use to wonder why she felt comfortable in a man’s arms but also loved being held by another woman? Didn’t she watch those french films wondering what her life would be if she was like the daringly gay women who kissed other girls at coffee shops? Amanda knew who she was, she just never said it. She wasn’t  _ taught  _ to say it, she was taught to say  _ dyke, lesbo, queer.  _ She wasn’t taught that in 2007 in a hotel room in Los Santos she would realize that she was in love with her best friend. 

“I have to go” Amanda stammered reaching for her purse. 

Immediately Vanessa was standing, reaching out to hold Amanda’s arm, desperation choking at her. “Amanda, please!” Vanessa cried, “I’m sorry”

_ Why are you so sorry? _

Amanda shut her eyes, trying to find her center, find her inner peace. But there was a storm in her. She didn’t  _ want  _ to leave Vanessa. She didn’t want to break her heart and go back home to Michael and pretend that things were fine. She wanted to stay in Room 506 where she was safe and loved, where she could be with Vanessa. 

“I’m sorry. That was a mistake, I’m...I’m…”

Vanessa was forcing herself to smile, but Amanda saw the pain. Vanessa was desperate to keep Amanda with her, desperate for her to stay. “It's my fault!” Vanessa smiled sadly, “Let's just forget about it! We can watch a movie, or...or…”

Amanda shook her head, biting her lip. She couldn’t leave like this, she couldn’t lie like this. If she walked out that door she knew she’d never see Vanessa again. She could see Vanessa slipping out of her life, feeling that Amanda had abandoned her and betrayed her. She could see herself going back to her lonely life doing yoga by the pool, wishing someone would stop by. 

No, she couldn’t lose her. Not tonight, not in the safety of that hotel room.

She moved in closer to kiss Vanessa again, this time with no regret, no fear. Vanessa wrapped her arms around Amanda, letting a hand rest against her waist. “Don't leave me” Vanessa whispered into her mouth. 

 

**2014**

Robbing anything in Sandy Shores was always something done just for the vanity of it all. It was almost a  _ requirement  _ that residents must have some form of criminal history. Michael had even observed the Sheriff taking a “protection fee” from the only gas station after Trevor had robbed the place a day earlier. It was a wonder how any business survived out in the lawless Grand Senora Desert.

If you were caught, worse case scenario you spend a night in the county jail. But even Michael had seen Trevor talk himself out of that sort of sentence when the Sheriff came to their door one morning to calmly ask why Frank Pratchett was dead by the roadside with a “ _ fuck you _ ” note signed by Trevor on his chest. 

As far as Michael could tell, robbing the 24/7 would be a breeze. As Trevor drove them away from the scene if the crime, Michael counted the cash. It was a meager $45 and some random marbles. 

“Jesus, you hit this place up before I came through?” Michael asked,

“ _ Please,  _ I just rolled into town yesterday and I was busy. Stanley probably robbed them this morning and then got his dick sucked behind the store”

Michael raised a brow, and coyly asked, “Did you suck his dick?”

“What? I mean,  _ yes,  _ in the  _ past,  _ but not today” Trevor trailed off, scratching his chin, “ _ Or did I? _ ”

Michael snickered, shaking his head. The sun was setting over Mount Josiah. Trevor pulled over onto the makeshift beach along Marina Drive. He made sure to stop the Bodhi just before the pavement ended before Michael yelled. Neither men were in the mood to dig the truck out of the muddy sand and have a repeat of last year. 

As Trevor shut off the engine he let his cassettes run in the background, the soft hum of Smashing Pumpkins floating into the night air. 

Michael handed the bag of cash over to Trevor who immediately started dividing the take. Michael put a hand on his, saying “I dont a share, its fine”

“What you think I  _ need  _ the $45? I’m a goddamn  _ millionaire  _ Mikey.”

He smiled, “I know I just…”

Trevor put the bag on the car floor, resting against his seat. Michael watched him shut his eyes, slowly dozing off in his seat.

“God you’re an old fucker, you need a nap?”

“I’m tired, I’ve had a long day”

“We could go back to the trailer” Michael offered, “Or to Los Santos. I could buy you a room somewhere nice, and we could talk in the morning”

Trevor sneered, eyes still shut. “Classic Michael, putting me up in a seedy motel to fuck in like i’m some whore. Real Classy, friend”

Michael frowned. He knew he didn't mean it, at least he only half meant it. Michael just wanted to  _ hold  _ him. He was feeling tired himself, the last twenty four hours was just one curveball after another. And once Michael got home he was going to have to talk more about the divorce with Amanda. 

“Well, T” Michael called to a half asleep Trevor.

“Well what, Sugar Tits?” He murmured,

“Well we got there, in the end I mean. We’ve moved on” Michael wanted to believe they had moved on. He was always the sort of man that thought that if something was said, it had to be at least a little true.

“Hmm…Have we?” Said Trevor opening a single eye to watch Michael.

“I hope so. Haven't we?”

“I guess” Trevor shrugged resting his head against the drivers window.

“I mean I fucked you over, Trev. And i’m sorry. I get that maybe you don't wanna forgive me. But I want you...I want you to know I  _ do _ care about you, so I want you to have my share from Union heist” That woke up Trevor. Now he was staring at Michael, an eyebrow raised, trying to figure out if this was a game or not. But Michael was already reaching into his back pocket for his checkbook. Trevor watched him closely, waiting for the punchline, the plot twist.

“You do?”

“Yeah. I mean i’ve  _ been  _ rich, and it didn't make me happy” Michael was smiling at Trevor with one hand on his checkbook and the other rooting around for a pen in his suit pocket. Then Trevor saw him, Michael Townley, 48 years old. That asshole who could make him melt, made him feel complete. He was older and fatter now and went by De Santa, but it was Michael Townley all the same. And he wasn’t playing Trevor for the first time in years. “Seeing you again, running around like this, that made me happy. And I just want you to be happy too”

“I don't need it Michael. It was never about the money, man” Trevor put his hands on Michael’s, trying to get him to drop the checkbook. Michael looked up at Trevor, the moonlight illuminating his green eyes. 

Just as cautious as Trevor was in regards to Michael, Michael was as well. But Michael wasn’t afraid that Trevor was playing him or trying to run him around in circles. Michael caution was not for lack of trust in Trevor, but for lack of trust in himself. He didn’t want to fuck up, he knew that one wrong word and everything they’d done to fix things would put them right back where they were a year ago. Michael knew that Trevor had no reason to remain with him anymore, that he could just go back to Sandy Shores and never look up Michael De Santa again. Michael didn’t want that. “Look back in 2004, it was a tough time. And I fucked up, and I’m sorry”

For a change, it was Trevor watching Michael. Michael was sweating, going over every possible outcome to his apology. Trevor shooting him down, telling him that apologies dont make up for ten years of solitude and hurt. He could see Trevor yelling at him to get the fuck out of his truck, shooting out the window if Michael refused to go. But Trevor was always full of surprises, always full of ways to confuse Michael. “Okay. I forgive you”

“Seriously?”

“All I ever wanted was the truth, an apology, and a blowjob. Now i’ve gotten all three from you, we’re good”

Michael couldn’t tell if he was having a heart attack or the first pure wave of joy he’d felt in months. He wiped his eyes, laughing into his hands. Trevor was smiling, and put his leg up on Michael’s shoulder, kicking him gently. Michael turned up, laughing, “What?”

“When are you gonna start wearing that fuckin hearing aid, Townley? I said I forgive you”

Michael grinned big. He wasn't expecting this kind of response, this kind of forgiveness. He always thought that there would be a rift between them that he, himself made. But Trevor was willing to build a bridge, he was willing to start over.

Michael reached over, hugging Trevor’s waist. He didn’t smell like he did before, he still smelled like the skies and the sea, but there was something  _ cleaner  _ about him. Michael wanted to ignore his worry for a second, just to whisper “I love you” into Trevor’s shirt. 

“ _ Gaaaaaaay _ ” Trevor groaned, running his fingers through Michael’s hair. 

“I’m serious T. I do, I really do”

“Yeah yeah, I love you too, Sugar” Trevor chuckled, resting his lips against Michael’s hair. 

They both felt soft for a little while. It hit Trevor quick that he was nearly fifty years old, but he was still in love with the same person he’d fallen in love with almost twenty one years prior. Michael had been aware of this the entire day, and had made it his personal goal to make it so that he and Trevor could spend the rest of their lives together, even if it was just hugging one another in the front seat of the Bodhi.

With the slate cleaned, Michael took advantage of the level ground to ask the burning question, “Where’ve you been all this time i was worried”

“Like you care” Trevor swatted away the question just as easily as Michael swatted away questions about Brad the past year. 

Michael bit his lip, sitting up from Trevor’s chest. “I do, I was worried, you dick”

“You don't gotta worry about it” As Trevor was reaching for the ignition, Michael reached out and snatched the keys. He held them above his head, smiling at Trevor who he expected to fight him. But Trevor passively put both of his legs up stretched across the truck, and shut his eyes. “Goodnight then”

“Its seven o’clock dude. C’mon, we’re even now! Where were you?”

“It doesn’t matter” Trevor said trying to drift into unconsciousness.

Michael took a deep breath, resting his arm on Trevor’s legs. With his cheek in his hand, he decided to try and narrow down what his secret could be. Trevor wasn’t exactly one for secrets, that meant weakness for Trevor, and Michael knew that he didn’t want to be seen as weak. “What did you take yesterday?”

“Drugs” 

“Yeah, I figured. Which ones”

Trevor pulled his foot up, trying to kick Michael in the face. Michael grabbed his boot, and pushed his leg away. Trevor opened his eyes, glaring at Michael. “It wasn’t drugs, happy? You gonna let me fuckin’ sleep?”

“ _ No,  _ not until you fuckin’ talk to me, T. What’d you do after your mom left yesterday, huh? Even Ron didn’t know what to do”

Trevor rubbed his bald head, balling up his fists at the top of his head where he would normally be pulling at his hair. He groaned, “I’m uh...sober, Michael. I mean, now, yeah, whatever. I was out in a fucking home, alright? I was in a treatment place, you happy?”

Michael raised a brow. He was expecting Trevor to burst out laughing or use it as a cover for when he jumped out of the Bodhi and physically ran away from Michael’s line of questioning. But instead Trevor crossed his arms, looking away from Michael, biting his lip. 

“Wow, T, I uh...is that where you’ve been?”

“Yes, Michael, thats where I’ve fucking been. That’s why I didn’t want you to call”

“Why? T this is great! I would’ve been happy to come out and support you, bro!” Michael beamed, but any words of encouragement were lost to Trevor. He wasn’t proud of this, he didn’t want to mention it. He wanted Michael to drop it, but he also knew he was too deep in it to get out of it. 

“I didn’t  _ want  _ you to come out and see me like that, M...Ah! Its fucking stupid, whatever” Trevor spat, swinging his legs back over to the gas pedal. He reached for the ignition but came up empty handed. Defeated, he rested his forehead against the steering wheel. Michael watched him struggle just to think about what they were talking about. He saw how exhausted he was, he looked like he’d been carrying fifty pounds on his back all day. Michael reached out to rest a hand on his back, gently, carefully. 

“What made you do it?” Michael asked,

“I fucking felt like it” Trevor growled, “It doesn’t matter”

Michael remembered the dozens of therapists who failed Trevor, they were mainly state appointed ones who didn’t care about him. They were overworked and oversaturated, they just wanted Trevor out of their office. Trevor only went to see them because the state demanded it, and even then it was only for a session or two before him and Michael were fleeing the state to hit their next score. Michael was normally waiting in the parking lot ready to flee after Trevor’s sessions when he normally knocked the lights out of the doctors for asking about his mother.  _ They’re all fucking quacks,  _ Trevor would yell,  _ They’re all out to get me, they’re gonna fucking kill me, like that bitch at the air force! _

“How long have you been clean?”

“Five months” 

“From everything?”

Trevor breathed, lifting his head to rub his eyes. “Speed, coke, heroin. I just back into town yesterday”

“And then Betty showed up?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t a relapse, Mikey”

Michael handed him the keys. He understood that was as much as he was going to get out of Trevor that night. “Come to Los Santos with me” Michael said with a hand on his shoulder, “I’m serious, T. You shouldn’t be in Sandy Shores right now”

“What, you want me to  _ leave  _ my business to Ron and Chef and Wade?” Trevor scoffed, “I left them alone with it  _ looooong  _ enough, brother”

“Trev, you’ve been smoking the shit you sell for ten years. You’ve only been clean for five months, you need to stay away”

Trevor raised a brow, “You callin’ my product shit?”

“It's made out of battery acid, T”

“It's  _ made  _ out of  _ love,  _ Michael” 

“Just come with me, alright? TPI, it’ll still be here, just stay in Los Santos with me a while, huh? Frank ain't even seen you since you disappeared!”

Trevor smiled softly before he reverted back to a frown. He scratched his head, mulling it over. He’d worked too hard for Trevor Philips Industries to get where it was today to let it all blow up to shit. That being said, he hadn’t exactly had the corporate meeting he’d hoped to have on his first day back so he wasn’t sure how things were going. He’d need to meet with Ron and Chef and talk sales, Lost MC, among other things. Afterwards he’d have to fix whatever’s been broken to get everything running smoothly again. 

Then there was The Vanilla Unicorn which more or less ran itself. Trevor had entrusted Wade to keep it running, but also put one of the dancers, Infernus, as second in command. That being said, he  _ did  _ need to return to Los Santos eventually to do the work that Wade and Infernus could not do without him.

The whole thing was a clusterfuck of work he had to do. He enjoyed his work, there was no mistaking that, but it was draining. He’d just spent the last few months fighting himself and now he had to go back to fighting the world just to put his product out there. “Give me a few days to get my bearings, Sugar Tits” he groaned rubbing his eyes, “Besides aint you suppose to be, I don't know,  _ involved  _ in a divorce case?”

“Yeah, we still gotta sort a lot out. But I want you safe, T”

“I’m a grown man, my  _ god! _ ”

“I know! I know, I just worry, alright?”

“ _ You? Worry? With your clogged arteries? _ ”

“Let's get you home alright? And then I’ll leave you to your business” Michael said offering the keys back to Trevor who snatched them out of his hands before he could change his mind.

As they drove back to Trevor's trailer in silence, Michael leaned in to kiss his cheek, savoring the feel of his stubble against his lips. “It's good being back together again, T”

Trevor grinned, wrapping an arm around Michael’s neck, “You bet, sugar”.

***

Trevor use to lay awake at night without sleep after Michael got married over whether or not he was ever really his. When they were on the road, Trevor would watch from the side of his eye as Michael rounded up a girl or two to take back to their motel room. Trevor use to never mind the women, both of them liked fucking girls, but men? It was always just the two of them only when they got together. 

But some part of Trevor ached when he saw Michael with women, something about it made him feel guilty. Michael was the typical high school jock, and Trevor was the dropout punk. He felt that Michael’s destiny was to find a nice wife, have a few kids, get a picket fence and a pet dog. Trevor felt that, in his own words, he was doomed the minute his poor mother gave him life. 

He use to think about how if Michael and Trevor had met any other way than they did, then they would’ve never become friends.

That's why when Michael announced his engagement to Amanda, Trevor was  _ devastated.  _ He agreed in the moment to behave himself, to play nice with Amanda if he wanted to stay in his life. But immediately after Michael left Trevor alone again, he lost it.  _ He never wanted me, he never fucking wanted me!  _ He yelled as his fists pulverized the dirty motel mirror until his reflection was tinted red. With his knuckled bloody he fell to the floor, kicking and screaming.

But here they were, forty eight years old and still together. Sure they’d been apart for nine years, Michael fucked Trevor over irrefutably. Not to mention Trevor had let the Chinese gang kidnap Michael. But for better or for worse, they were stuck together. And for once, Michael had chosen Trevor.

Michael helped Trevor up the steps of his trailer where they were met with Ron who happily helped Trevor inside. Once they got Trevor to his bed he melted into the mattress while Michael covered him with his thin pink blanket. As he sat beside Trevor on his bed and put a hand on his jaw, caressing his stubble with his thumb. Trevor chuckled, “If I didn’t know any better Townley, I’d say you were in love”

Michael smiled, “Yeah, imagine that”

Ron awkwardly stood in the doorway twiddling his thumbs. When he realized what was happening, he awkwardly excused himself outside. Michael chuckled, “I think he’s jealous”

“I think  _ you’re  _ jealous, Mikey boy” Trevor chuckled, “Or are you trying to throw me off your scent, huh? You fuckin’ Ronald? You just trying to get me distracted by putting your fucking cigarette stench on me so I can't smell you on him?”

Michael laughed. He leaned in close trying to give Trevor a romantic and gentle kiss goodnight, but of course Trevor didn’t play like that. He pulled him in quick, using all that remained of his strength to keep Michael against him. Michael always tasted like cigarette smoke, Trevor usually joked that he also tasted like heart disease and depression. In that first kiss since Devin Weston’s car crashed into the ocean, all Trevor could think was  _ he’s mine, all mine.  _

Michael laughed into Trevor’s mouth, “You’re so damn needy”

“Fuck you, Townley” he growled pulling him back in.

Michael knew not to take advantage when Trevor was like this. He was ecstatic, but when he was in this kind of mood he gave too much. Trevor was always desperate to make sure that people stayed with him. He’d give them whatever they wanted, drugs, sex, anything as long as they stayed with him. But Michael needed Trevor to understand he wasn’t going anywhere, and he didn’t need to sacrifice anything for him to stay.

As he pulled away, he gently pressed Trevor back against the bed. “Get some shut eye, call me when you wake up, alright?”

“You’re a real fucker you know that?” Trevor frowned.

“What’d I do?” 

“Nothing. Just go fuck yourself, creep”

Michael laughed shaking his head. As he stood up he could hear his joints cracking under him, his back calling for a long rest in his bed back in Los Santos. Trevor just laughed, “My  _ god  _ you’re old”

“Yeah well I got a surprise for you, T. You ain’t exactly a spring chicken yourself” Michael winked,

“I still fuck like I am” Trevor defended, punching his chest. Michael laughed, making his way out.

He stopped at the bedroom doorway, thinking about how long he’d have to go now without Trevor again. Maybe it would only be a week, maybe it would be a month. But it felt too long for Michael, he’d only just gotten him back and now he had to give him up again.  _ Two old fuckers with abandonment issues is always a nice pair,  _ he lamented to himself.

He turned to Trevor who had already wrapped himself up in his blanket, eyes shut, trying to forget that Michael was leaving him again. “Hey T?”

“What Sugar Tits?”

“I love you”

Trevor chuckled, nuzzling his pillow. “Yeah, fuck you too...don't you fucking die on me”

Michael smiled.  _ Don't you fucking die on me,  _ was Trevor’s way of saying  _ Yeah I love you too shitface.  _ He turned off the lamp beside the dresser and slid the bedroom door shut. 

Outside the trailer sat Ron who was fussing around with his radio. Michael put a hand on his shoulder, which was met with him immediately pushing him away. Michael didn’t really care, he put put his hands in his pockets. “Good to see you, Ron. Take care of him, alright?” Michael asked.

Ron looked up at Michael, squinting his eyes. He was still trying to figure him out - trying to see what about him was suppose to be so great. As far as Ron could see, Michael was just another washed up jock that got too old and fat and made too many poor decisions. But for some reason, Trevor  _ really  _ did like Michael, and Michael didn’t seem to be going anywhere. Ron knew once Michael showed up Sandy Shores, he would never leave. Ron wanted to radically accept this, but it still hurt for him to think that Michael was Trevor’s best friend, and not him. “There’s an accident on Highway 11, it's bumper to bumper. You’re better off taking the Senora Freeway” he warned, “Also, hide your assets before you go with the divorce”

Michael raised a brow, “How’d you know about that?”

“I know  _ lots  _ of things”

“Alright Trevor’s Creepy Friend, i’ll take your word for it”

Ron bit the inside of his cheek, turning his attention back towards his radio. He watched Michael walk down the steps of the trailer and make his way back to his car. But Ron took a leap of faith and called after him, “Hey Michael?”

“What is it Trevor’s Creepy Friend?”

“I’m his  _ best  _ friend” he asserted anxiously. 

Michael raised a brow. He wasn’t an idiot, and he got what Ron was thinking. Abandonment issues were so frequent in San Andres, Michael wondered if it was the water. “You ain't gotta worry about me taking that title away, Ron”

Ron smiled a little bit, nodding his head. “I’m his best friend...in a  _ friend _ way”

Michael laughed, “I get it”

“Not like you two”

“I said I  _ get it,  _ Ron”

“I like women”

“Alright Ron” Michael waved as he got in his car. 

From his window he could see Ron was still talking, but Phil Collins and his infinite Dad Rock Genre tuned him out. 

***

Michael breezed down the highway, ready to go home and finally sleep in a bed rather than a chair. The last day felt like it’d been weeks of stress and he needed a fucking vacation. But he knew that once he got back home him and Amanda would be knee deep in legal work to get their divorce through. Not to mention that whether or not the kids decided they wanted the house, he was going to need to find himself a new place. He thought about a nice beach house, Trevor hated Los Santos but he seemed to enjoy Vespucci beach. Michael could’ve sworn that his old place was up for sale.

As Michael began to fantasize about how soft his bed was, his phone rang. It was Amanda over the line. He considered just letting it ring, just turn off the ringer and deal with it when he got home. But after everything, he knew he should  _ at least  _ pick up this one time without any trouble. Defeated, he held the phone to his ear, answering “Hey Amand, I’m on my way home”

“Don't bother. I need a favor, Michael”

He groaned,  _ Is it because I’m a horrible person, God? Because I know I am. I just want some fucking shut eye.  _ “What is it?”

“I can't explain it now. Can you meet me at Vanessa’s?”

“Vanessa’s? The fuck are you doin’ there so late?”

There was a quiet whisper in the background Michael knew it to be Vanessa. He was too use to being fucked over. He didn’t know  _ why  _ Amanda needed him at Vanessa’s but he was gonna burst a god damn blood vessel if it was all just some sick revenge and the divorce was just a cover.  _ I just want to take a fucking nap.  _ “I just need you here, Michael. Please. When have I ever asked for anything?”

“You joking?” He laughed, “Lets see, the kitchen remodel, lipo, plastic surgery, your car, your designer shoes and purses, the country club membership...Not like I’m keeping count of course”

“Fuck you Michael! Please, just come over”

“Whats this about, Amand? Just give me a hint, please”

“It's  _ about  _ me sticking by you for almost twenty years, and raising your children and asking you to please do this one thing for me, no questions asked”

“But  _ what the fuck is the thing,  _ Amanda?”

“I can't explain it! Just get over here!”

He sighed.  _ What a fucking headache.  _ His only solstice in all of this was that he’d been to Vanessa’s house before and he’d seen her espresso machine. Couple cups of those, and he’d be willing to force himself to stay awake a little longer. “Can you promise me that this isn’t just a cheap tactic to get my guard down so you could kill me?”

“No darling,  _ you’re  _ the homicidal maniac, that's why I’m calling you”

He raised a brow, “What?”

“See you soon! Drive safe!”

As Amanda hung up on him he tried to just focus on the road ahead, what the future could be. Afterall, he’d been at the bottom, so all of this was uphill now. Wasn’t it?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait y'all! Thanks so much to everyone leaving comments and kudos. I love u all, I support u all, and know that no matter what u do I will always be proud of you, sport.   
> XOXO,  
> Daaarlings

**2007**

Vanessa Evans wasn’t born Vanessa Swankowski. Vanessa was born Jane Doe.

She never knew who her biological mother or father was, and it never bothered her as much as people wanted to believe it did. She was left outside a fire station in the grubby town of Rexville one night in the middle of December, she was barely a month old.

Vanessa was adopted by a seemingly well adjusted middle-class couple with two young children of their own. Growing up it was never a secret to Vanessa that she was adopted. Both her parents were devoutly religious, her father was the town preacher. Neither of them believed in lying to their children because they wanted their children to never lie to them. As young as five years old Vanessa was told by her mother as she brushed her hair that she was so happy that angels had blessed her with such a wonderful little girl. Her father thanked God on Vanessa’s birthday every year for blessing him with such a miraculous daughter. 

Vanessa never knew shame for most of her childhood. Rexville was made up of rednecks and drug addicts. Her parents taught her not to pity and not to hate, but to comfort and practice tolerance. In the winter they opened the church as a homeless shelter, on easter it was a soup kitchen, and sunday service was open to anyone who could find a spot to sit. 

No, Vanessa didn’t grow up learning about shame. She learned it when she was twelve years old. She got caught kissing Abigail Johnson who lived down the road with eight siblings and five dogs. Abigail wanted to practice kissing because she had a crush on Shawn Mallory but had never kissed a boy. Vanessa offered to play the part of Shawn and they kissed each other in their sundresses behind church. At first Vanessa couldn’t believe how soft Abigail's lips felt against hers. She’d kissed Greg Jacobs in the broom closet at school and his lips felt chapped and sharp against hers. She liked kissing Abigail, she thought it was like kissing a rose. 

The next sensation she felt as she continued kissing Abigail was a hard pinching against her skull as her father grabbed her by the back of her head. Immediately he began yelling at Vanessa and cursing Abigail who ran back home barefoot. Vanessa’s father dragged her through the streets by her hair and let her cry out in pain when he would yank her in a new direction. When they got home he beat her until sweat began to drip from his chin, and left Vanessa cowering in the corner of the living room sobbing to herself. Afterwards, Vanessa was cautious to not let herself fall prey to her “ _ erratic tendencies _ ” (her father’s words) that God had apparently blessed her with. 

“God blesses us all with unique struggles. It is not because he hates us, but because he wants us to thrive” Said her mother that fateful night as she wiped the blood from her daughter’s nose, pretending that her daughter being beaten black and blue wasn’t a problem. This would become a weekly ritual for Vanessa until she ran away from home at eighteen. Her father would beat her until he got too tired, and then her mother would dress her wounds. No one in town ever said anything, except to ask when Vanessa was going to get a boyfriend.

But years later Vanessa found herself laying next to her best friend soaked in the morning sun. 

For the first time in years, Vanessa didn’t feel afraid to put her hands on another woman. As Amanda slept, Vanessa tucked her hair behind her ear, resting her hand on her delicate neck. Amanda had two moles under her right ear that Vanessa always wanted to touch, to kiss, and now she could. She felt so much freedom just laying there, just being able to let her hand rest against Amanda’s skin. She wondered if her father would still beat her at her age for feeling so strongly about another woman, or if he would feel shame that he couldn’t beat it out of her.

Amanda and Vanessa spent the night talking about what they were going to do, what Vanessa would do. Amanda, while she did adore Vanessa, could not leave Michael and her children. She promised that Vanessa would always have a place to sleep in her home, but no one could know about how they were.  _ How we are?  _ Vanessa wished she could be called a girlfriend by Amanda, not a gal pal. But Vanessa was thankful for Amanda’s support. she knew that if Will was leaving her he’d no doubt cut off her credit cards and then she’d be out on the streets. 

But her biggest concern was Caleb. She’d more or less stayed in the closet because she feared what would’ve become of Caleb if she had come out. Vanessa only knew violence when speaking about how she felt about women. She still flinched when she saw people close to her moving too fast, remembering all of the beatings she use to endure. She had a permanent scar on her nose to remind her of kissing Abigail when she was twelve. She didn’t want Caleb to know about that, she didn’t want him to see her hurt, she didn’t want him to be afraid. 

Will was a good provider and a good father. He adored Caleb and treated him how a father should treat a son. Because of Will and Vanessa, Caleb had a happy childhood, even if his parents felt indifferent towards each other. And now he was a well adjusted law student following in his father’s footsteps. He had a steady girlfriend of three years that Vanessa thought was almost a perfect match for her son if only she’d learn to relax around her. Vanessa was already anticipating a wedding, grandchildren, whatever came next for Caleb Vanessa was already prepared and overjoyed.

But if Caleb were to find out that Vanessa had been keeping this secret from him? She wasn’t sure what he’d do. Caleb was a mama’s boy all the way, he always answered when she called, made sure to check in with her every sunday about how his studies were going. But Vanessa was accustomed to being mislead. In her life, only Amanda had chosen to remain faithful to her after she’d come out and it had only been a night. If Caleb couldn’t accept her, she didn’t know what she would do. Of all of the heartbreaks she’d endured in her lifetime, that would be the greatest travesty of all.

She tried to think of how her and Amanda would be now. They’d shared a few kisses, fell asleep in one another’s arms, but it’d only been one night. Even though Michael was a horrible husband, Amanda remained faithful. Vanessa wanted to believe it was just how Amanda was, and this was for her children. But while Vanessa had admitted one of her biggest secrets to Amanda, she still felt like she was years away from understanding who her  _ friend  _ truly was. What her secret was worried Vanessa, but she told herself she’d be there to support her when she did trust her enough to tell her.

As Vanessa thought she was snapped back to reality by the sound of her phone buzzing against the hardwood nightstand. Amanda stirred awake, rubbing her eyes as Vanessa leaned over to grab her phone. “Its Will”

“You don't have to talk to him if you don't want to” Amanda said sleepily, “You have a right to be upset with how he reacted”

“I need to know what's going on, Dolly” Vanessa sighed, “Just stay quiet, alright?”

Amanda wrapped her arms around her waist, nuzzling herself into Vanessa’s sides. “I’m here if you need me”

Vanessa smiled and took this as a moment to test how her and Amanda were doing. She put her free arm around Amanda as she flipped her phone open, letting her hand rest against Amanda’s thigh. “William?”

“We need to talk” He was always so business with her, she hated that. He always acted like she was one of his fucking law partners. 

“Obviously” she replied rolling her eyes.

“I’ve been thinking. Anita had no grounds to relay the information she did to me, Vanessa. Was she telling the truth?”

She bit her lower lip, moving her hand to the top of Amanda’s head. She thought about what was ahead, how unknown it was. No matter how she answered she was afraid of what the outcome would be. “Darlin’ you know I love you” 

“Your dialect is slipping” Will groaned, “Is what Anita said true? Are you a lesbian?”

“No” she lied, looking down at Amanda. “I love you”

“You and I both know that  _ love  _ isn’t something that's been in this relationship, Vanessa. But I believe in dedication, and I wanted to believe you did too”

Vanessa couldn’t roll her eyes any harder without them falling out of her head.  _ Dedication, please, I do your laundry. I’ve seen the stains.  _

“I don't want us to separate, the explanation alone would be the death of both of us. And Caleb”

_ And Caleb. Just be honest William, you don't want everyone knowing that the stripper you married and tried to turn into your Los Santos Dream Wife turned out to be a lesbian.  _ “I think that's...an interesting proposal”

“We’ll have a private open marriage from here on. I don't want to know what you’re doing, I just ask that you keep it behind closed doors. I’ll do the same”

“Are you trying to say that our doors have ever been open?” Vanessa joked, but she could practically see Will, devoid of emotion, probably already at his office wearing his crisp suit. 

“ _ I don't want to know, Vanessa _ ” He repeated. His voice over the phone shook her, it was too familiar, to dominating. She reached out for Amanda’s hand and squeezed it, “I don't give a shit what you’re doing. But I am a fucking respected member of this community, and if you bring me down because of your fucking... _ preferences,  _ I’ll bury you. _ Do you understand me _ ”

Amanda lifted her head hearing this, and watched Vanessa nod along. Vanessa breathed hard, sinking into the plush of the bed, feeling the blood rushing to her head.  “Yes dear”

“Good. I’ll speak to Anita, see if I can get her to quiet down about this. I want you home, there’s no reason for you to be staying at hotel. Don't let anyone see you leaving”

“Of course, darling”

“Vanessa?”

“Yes, Will?”

“Don't fuck up like this again”

Vanessa laid on her back with the phone still against her cheek. She swallowed hard, her brain trying to million different new worries she had. But Amanda was there, reaching out to hold her other hand in hers. “Vanessa, are you okay?”

“Its an open marriage at least” Vanessa smiled sadly, “He’s never talked to me like that. I’ve never heard him talk like that”

Amanda didn’t know what to say. Her and Michael bickered like cats and dogs, they never held back from one another. But on the rare occasion that Amanda had met Will he had been one of the most boring and bland men she had ever met. He never raised his voice, never swore. He always acted as if he was at work even if he was attending a party. But Amanda was still fired up about Anita, and she’d dig her claws into William Evans too if Vanessa gave her the go ahead. But Amanda didn’t let Vanessa know that any of that was a possibility. Instead she just rested her head against her shoulder, holding her closer. “I’m sorry. I’ll bitch slap him if you want”

Vanessa laughed, turning her head to kiss Amanda’s forehead. “You really don't mind me?”

“I’m the one who kissed you!” Amanda cried, turning her head up to kiss Vanessa’s chin. “Of all the things to regret, that’s not on my list”

“Mmm...Where does this leave us though?”

“I told you. I’m not leaving Michael, but…”

“We’ll just have a secret affair? Amanda you expect me to  _ lie _ ?”

“It's only lying if you want it to be!” Amanda sat up, she was a master at this. She’d seen Michael pull this their whole relationship.  _ It's not a lie if it's not the whole truth.  _ “Someone asks why we spend so much time together? We’re best friends! Someone asks why we’re so close? We’re best friends! Christ, this may be Los Santos but no one notices anything unless it relates to them”

“Except me”

Amanda sighed, “Yeah, except you. Nosey fucker”

“You like it!”

Amanda rolled her eyes. Vanessa sat up from the bed, resting her arms on Amanda’s shoulders. “So we’re just a couple of gal pals?” She asked with an eyebrow raised,

“Just a couple of gals being pals” Amanda chuckled, “Now go brush your teeth, your morning breath is killing me Nessa!”

Vanessa fell over, kissing Amanda’s cheeks. “You signed off on this! You signed off on this!” She laughed as Amanda pushed her back.

“You’re a fucker!”

“I’m your fucker” Vanessa smiled.

She thought about Amanda bitch slapping her husband and laughed.

 

**2014**

Trevor woke up the next morning bitterly angry. He kicked his blanket off and began slapping himself. He couldn’t believe himself, he was absolutely disgusted! Horrified!  _ Almost forty nine years old and still having those fucking dreams.  _

As he swung his legs over the mattress he buried his face in his hands letting out a muffled scream. He wasn’t going to give those fucking therapists the satisfaction of knowing they’d helped him recover, but he  _ did  _ miss the rehab house. There were always people about, always someone to pick a fight with if things got too quiet. But now he was back home and it was too quiet and he could hear himself thinking again.

_ I need a fix, fuck, I need something.  _ Instinctively he reached for his nightstand but shuttered at the thought of touching his own product. 

He use to love meth and heroin. They were mom and dad to him, the only constants in the worst time of his life. When he wanted to lay down and die because his life ended in North Yankton, he could just smoke some meth and be ready to fight the world. If his heart was racing and he was reliving those memories of Michael dying in his arms, he’d shoot up in the comfort of his bathroom and melt away. But now just the thought left him feeling nauseous. 

He’d only gotten into meth after North Yankton. Meth was loneliness, pathetic self-loathing and crying like a baby in the middle of his kitchen. It was watching his father smoke it just before he beat him with his belt while his brother laughed at him from the other room. It was pissing himself when he was coming down so hard he couldn’t even move his legs. Meth may have gotten him going in the past, but now he knew it was just something else that took advantage of him.

Heroin had been his first love, he shot up the first time after he was booted from the army. And like meth, Trevor now saw what heroin had actually done to him. Heroin left him sobbing and shivering in the middle of motel rooms. It left marks on his skin that he tried his best to hide from Tracey and Jimmy when they were kids. Heroin made him desperate, it was the only thing that could calm him down before. Even after he met Michael, Heroin was always his go-to. But now it made his skin crawl and his blood run cold. 

His therapists had warned him that recovery would be extremely difficult due to his long-term use. He spent the first month in rehab in an actual hospital just detoxing. He felt like shit, threw up constantly, shit himself and cried for hours. But it’d been months since then, and he felt physically  _ cleaner.  _ Like for once his blood was running clean and he could actually breathe. 

But that morning he wished he could use again without throwing up at the thought. He had a dream - the best dream he’d ever had - that Michael took care of him and then told him he was leaving Amanda. And the plot twist? He  _ wanted  _ Trevor. For once in their whole lives, Michael was choosing him with no strings attached. 

He hated himself for dreaming up something so stupid, something so wonderful that it would break his heart once he woke up alone. 

_ I can just take a little bit dope, it won't be so bad. I just need to sleep and forget about it. I just need to fucking forget.  _

He was  _ shaking,  _ holding himself, humming, rocking himself back and forth.  _ Don't you fuck up Trevor Philips, dont you fuck up everything you’ve worked for over a fucking dream.  _

As he wrestled with himself, Ron anxiously watched from the doorway. Ron had been waiting for Trevor to wake up since eight that morning. After Michael left, Ron made sure to occasionally check on Trevor throughout the night to make sure he was still alive. But Ron was a little more frightened of Trevor than he had been previously.

Ron remembered when Trevor came home from Los Santos the last time. Ron happily reported that sales were up since their last push on the Lost. But while Trevor was happy to hear this, he didn’t have the time for it. He demanded that Ron drive him upstate to a clinic, and instructed him to take care of operations until he returned. While Ron had become more cautious around asking Trevor questions in the more recent year, this vague course of actions worried him. On the drive over when he asked why Trevor needed to go to the hospital, he revealed to him that he wanted to quit everything. 

Ron wasn’t sure how to act now. The majority of TPI’s sales were still methamphetamines, so what would Trevor’s rehabilitated self do with the industry? If Ron was honest with himself, he didn’t care of TPI sold knock off teddy bears, because he’d  _ committed  _ himself to the company. He found a friend in Trevor, but he also only had so little left to lose. Without Trevor Philips Industries, Ron had nothing left. 

“Hey Crazy Trevor” he finally called, “Sleep okay?”

Trevor shot him a glare, but Ron didn’t shudder as he normally did. “How do you think I slept,  _ Ronald _ ?”

“Is it because Michael was here?”

Trevor felt his heart stop. He shot up and grabbed Ron by his shirt, shouting  _ “What did you just say to me?! _ ”

“M-Michael! He was here, all yesterday, you remember that right, Boss?”

Trevor let him go, putting his hands on the back of his shaved head.  _ I didn’t make it up, he was really here.  _ “How long was that fucking human trash fire here?”

“About a day. He left last night, you dont remember?”

“Of  _ course  _ I remember, Ron” Trevor laughed, effectively throwing off Ron more so than usual. With one swift movement, Trevor picked Ron up and swung him around the small bedroom, crashing his legs into the dresser, “ _ God,  _ I love you man!”

Ron laughed as Trevor put him down, “Thanks T”

“Now, where’s Chef and Wade?” He asked as he made his way to the kitchen. He would literally,  _ literally  _ kill for some toast, but he knew the only edible items left in his kitchen were canned beans and beer. 

“I was waiting for you to show up before I called them. Both of them are in town and on standby”

“Good, good. You been keeping in contact with them?”

“There’s no secrets with us, T! Wade says things are going good at the Vanilla Unicorn, and Chef doesn’t have any problems at the kitchen” Ron reported as Trevor sits up on his counter opening a can of beans for breakfast. “But they can tell you more specifics when they get here”

“Good, good. You’re good people Ron” Trevor said as he shoved a mouthful of beans in his mouth. At this Ron stood a little straighter, a grin spreading on his face from ear to ear. 

“Thanks T, you are too” Ron beamed, “I’ll go call Chef and Wade”

As Ron opened the trailer door he immediately froze as he locked eyes with Sheriff Stanley who stood across the street against his cruiser in the morning sun smoking a cigarette. He smiled at Ron from behind his big aviator shades, effectively sending a chill up his spine. Ron shut the door quickly, getting low to the ground and whispering  _ “The Sheriff is here! _ ”

Trevor leaned forward to look out the window through his thin blinds. He shrugged, “Huh”

“What’re we gonna do T?” 

“Why the fuck would we do anything?” Trevor scoffed, “I’m just a man eating breakfast, and you, my disgusting pathetic friend, are getting your dandruff all over my goddamn floor”

Trevor was interested to know what Sheriff Stanley wanted with him. In the past they’d had constant squabbles and interactions. Some had even ended with Trevor fucking Stanley against the hood of his police cruiser after some mutual frisking. But mainly, Stanley was a prick. He extorted all of the cash from the local businesses to fund his own expenses. He walked around Sandy Shores as if he  _ owned  _ the place, as if he didn’t  _ know  _ that Trevor Philips had lived in town for ten fucking years and Sandy Shores was  _ his  _ town.

As Stanley started making his way towards the trailer, Trevor sat up from the counter. He threw open the trailer door and held his arms out, “Well looky here, Ronald, we got a god damn cowboy trespassing on my lawn!”

“Just thought i’d welcome you home proper, Mr. Philips” Stanley chuckled with a toothy grin. He had awful teeth, riddled with nicotine and coffee stains he could never get rid of.

Trevor made most people look small just by standing next to them. Few folk rivaled him in height, except for Stanley who with his twiggy arms and legs stood at 6’1”. Trevor hated this, the fucker could look him in the eyes and Trevor couldn’t look down on him. 

“The fuck you doin’ in my yard, cowboy?” Trevor asked

“Aw, what you aint happy to see me? Been a long time”

“What you want me to fuck you up your tight little hole again, Stanley?” Trevor shouted. 

This got Stanley running across the yard, giving Trevor that  _ say that again and i’ll make you regret it,  _ face. But Trevor wasn’t afraid, he wasn’t afraid of anything,  _ certainly  _ not Law Enforcement. 

“Why don't you watch that goddamn mouth of yours? I got half a mind to report to you to the fucking border patrol” Stanley spat, but this was all play for Trevor.

He threw his head back cackling, “Oh yeah? You gonna fucking  _ report  _ me, cowboy?”

“I got a whole file on the crimes you’ve committed against this great country, Philips”

By this point Ron was standing in between them, palms against each man’s chest trying to pry them away. But it was no use, Trevor pushed him away and continued, “Oh  _ have you?” _

“Murder, Drug Trafficking, Money Laundering, and how fucking old is that Visa of your’s, Philips?”

“ _ Oh lord,  _ Stanley, keep talking to me like that. It's gettin’ me hot and bothered” Trevor growled as he made a show of grabbing his crotch. Then Ron was in between them again, but now physically standing in between the two of them with his arms outstretched.

“Sheriff, I-I think you ought to go” Ron stammered. But Stanley just looked down at Ron like a gnat in his sphere of consciousness. With one swift movement, Stanley’s fist met Ron’s cheek and Ron was on the ground. 

It barely took a second for Trevor to literally kick Stanley off his porch and onto the dirt in his front yard. The next thing Stanley knew, Trevor was holding his shirt with one hand and raining punches down on his face with the other, “Didn’t your mother teach you manners?” was the only other sound beside the slamming of Trevor’s fists against Stanley’s cheeks.

Stanley used all of his strength to physically force Trevor off of him just by using his core. Once Trevor was so much as off balance, Stanley free’d his arms and punched Trevor square in the jaw. As Stanley stood back up he reached for his gun, but Ron tackled him to the ground using all of the strength in his body.

This was enough of a distraction for Trevor to hoist himself up and grab the sheriff up off the ground. He ran Stanley’s face into the trailer, bashing it against the rusted metal. With his free hand, Stanley latched onto Trevor’s shirt again like a tick and got one hard punch in, smiling with satisfaction at the crushing noise that vibrated through his fist. But this was a common mistake with fighting Trevor.

Michael best explained what fighting Trevor was like, that it wasn’t really a fight, just mirage that you have a chance at surviving. Trevor was a wild fire, destroying everything that dared get in his path. Punching him or fighting back just made him angrier, stronger, sometimes it even made him hard. Ron saw this and immediately ran up towards the porch again for cover, unsure of what would come next.

Trevor laughed as he threw Stanley to the ground, slamming his boot down on his windpipe. Stanley could only let out a single wheeze before he was on his side gasping for air. Trevor kicked him onto his stomach and sat on his back, pulling his head by the hair on the back of his head. Ron watched as Trevor withdrew the knife, took a deep breath already trying to imagine what world of trouble they’d be in for killing Stanley. But Trevor just held the blade to Stanley's throat and kissed his cheek, “You’re a real bitch, you know that Stan the Man?”

Stanley couldn’t speak, just wheezed. Trevor spat, “Nothing to say, huh? Well I got something to say. You ready to hear about it?”

Stanley was careful to nod quick enough that Trevor didn’t need to hurt him anymore, but to not let the blade get any closer to his throat. “I think you should go home, Stanley. Go home to that little shack just off Lolita Avenue. Y’know, the one where your newborn daughter is sleeping in her crib in the second bedroom to the left across from the bathroom. Whats her name?”

Stanley shut his eyes tight, swallowing hard. He wheezed out an answer, but was just met with Trevor moving his blade far enough for him to slam Stanley’s head into the dirt. When he pulled him back up, he spat, “ _ Whats her name, Stanley? _ ”

“G...rac...ie”

Trevor smiled, “Gracie? That's a beautiful name! You pick it out, or your wife? What's your wife’s name again? Nadine, right? 5’2, red hair, green eyes, goes to the farmers market every Tuesday in Harmony?”

Stanley struggled under Trevor’s weight, struggling to get any air into his body.

“Call her by her fucking name you prick! Show some fucking respect to the woman you married! Wait! You didn’t marry her, did you? But it's alright, just means that if anything happens to you, dear sweet little Gracie and Nadine get  _ jack shit  _ from the local fucking law enforcement, not a god damn crumb even for your pathetic hillbilly funeral. Ain't that a bitch?”

Stanley nodded. He was trembling under Trevor, but Trevor continued, “Mmm, you know I always love a man in uniform who works for me. You like working for me, don't you Stanley? Because as far as I see it, T.P.I. has  _ owned  _ Sandy Shores for ten years, huh? And it would be such a  _ goddamn shame  _ if you had to go out of commission, because you know how we send off our employee’s at Trevor Philips Industries?”

“H..o...w?” Stanley was just playing along at this point. He knew the answer.

Trevor stood up still holding onto Stanley’s hair. He dragged him into the street and pulled him up against his patrol car. Holding the switchblade against his cheek, he carved a single line along his stubble. “We fucking eat ‘em. Waste none, lose none, right Sheriff?”

Stanley glared at him. He knew he was beat. “I see you in my fucking line of sight again, I’m coming to 227 Lolita Avenue and introducing myself to that beautiful family of your’s, got it cowboy?”

Stanley spat. His voice was harsh, his nose whistled when he breathed as he licked the blood off his top lip. “Aint… you even gonna give me a kiss...goodbye?”

Trevor snickered, “I got better standards”

Trevor gave Stanley one final push against his car before he started towards his trailer again. Stanley considered reaching for his gun, popping one off in the back of Trevor’s skull. It’d put an end to whatever headache he surely had planned for Sandy Shores. But Stanley had that fleeting moment of fear that anyone who ever came into contact with Trevor Philips had. The sting, the wonder, the question of  _ “Can this guy even die?”.  _ Stanley had seen Trevor through the years, speeding his truck down the highway riddled with bullets. He’d heard the stories of him crashing two trains into each other and surviving to tell the tale. Hell, when he came back from Los Santos he looked like he’d been in a war. 

Stanley swallowed his defeat hard, threw open his car door and slammed it shut. He wiped his nose, and looked up to see Trevor finger gunning him with one eye shut, mouthing  _ “pew” _ as he shot a fake bullet at Stanley. He drove away.

Immediately Ron was ecstatic. “T! You fought the law!  _ And _ you won!”

“It's what I do, Ronald” Trevor said as he climbed the stairs back up to the trailer. He wiped the blood from his nose, wincing as he touched the bridge.  _ Broken? Maybe, whatever.  _ He looked at Ron whose eye was already turning red from Stanley’s punch. Trevor frowned, “Jesus, you look like an weathered housewife”

Ron waved him away, “It's alright. It's just a war marking!”

Trevor chuckled, “Yeah, how about that? Come have a beer with me”

Ron followed Trevor inside but was obviously uncomfortable at having a beer. He preferred moonshine,  _ you can't rely on the alcohol companies who poison the American people,  _ he’d say. But Trevor was already holding the cool bottle out for him to rest against his eye. Ron took it but didn’t make any attempt to open it. 

Him and Trevor sat on the couch, Trevor chugging down his bottle in a second. Ron meekly inquired, “Are you allowed to drink?”

“What?” Trevor snapped

“Just...because you were at that hospital, y’know...I been to AA”

“No one tells me what to do” Trevor lectured, “ _ Stanley  _ is a shining example of that, so’s the Lost, the Triad, Merryweather…”

“I-I didn’t mean it like that, boss” Ron stammered, “just…”

Trevor sighed, throwing his empty beer bottle on the ground. “It's fine, Ron”

“Thank you”

Trevor looked at him as he wiped the blood off his lip again, an eyebrow raised. “You’re welcome” it almost felt strange coming out of his mouth. How often did people ever thank him? Most people hated him or feared him and didn’t even notice when he did something for them.

Ron smiled, “I’m happy we’re friends, T”

“I am too, Ron” Trevor smiled back, “Now, are you gonna call the boys are you  _ trying  _ to waste my time?”

 

**2014**

After Amanda hung up the phone she went back to Vanessa who sat with her legs crossed on the living room couch. She brought with her a warm paper towel and cleaned the blood off her cheeks, and eyed the stains already setting into her shirt. Vanessa sighed as he stared at the body contorted on the black tiles of her living room that she had designed herself. It was such a tragedy that if Michael couldn’t help them then she’d have to disclose to potential buyers that someone had died in her home.  _ At least I have her,  _ they both thought as they looked at one another. Vanessa took the paper towel and wiped the blood of Amanda’s hands. “You painted your nails purple” Vanessa observed,

“I know thats your favourite color” Amanda grinned, 

“Have you looked at the paint swatches I sent you?” Vanessa asked eying the body. 

This was all too real for Amanda, she’d sworn she’d lived through something like this before. But normally Michael was the one with the blood on his hands and not her. 

She didn’t even think when she got into Vanessa’s house. They had agreed to meet up after they had told their husbands that they wanted a divorce. They would meet at the Jetty and have champagne and celebrate. But Vanessa never showed, her phone went to voicemail, and then Amanda was speeding up to Vinewood Hills in the middle of the night.

She could hear Will screaming before she even shut her car off. He was yelling horrible things at Vanessa, words that Amanda knew were like knives to her. Amanda went around the back knowing it was always unlocked. Amanda took off her heels and snuck through the house hearing things like,  _ Bitch, Cunt, Dyke.  _ With each step she took she grew more fearful and even more furious. When she turned the corner she ducked into the kitchen and grabbed a knife. At the time she wasn’t sure why she took it in her hands, why did she need it? If Will had attacked Vanessa, she could just knock him out, call the cops. She wasn’t a violent woman, she’d been married to Michael for over two decades and he had enough rage in him for the both of them. That's why she had him kill Anise for her a few years back, didn’t she? No, she wasn’t violent. She didn’t know why she had the knife. But she felt better staring at the sterling silver blade.

When she came upon the living room she saw Vanessa cowering in the corner with her arms covering her head. Will stood above her screaming that she was not going to embarrass him like this, that she was trash when she met him and he made her golden. At first Amanda just stood behind him paralyzed watching the scene. He hadn’t noticed her, but Vanessa saw her between her fingers. Vanessa looked at Will one last time before he lifted a hand land a hit that would never even graze Vanessa’s soft hair. 

Instead he cried out as Amanda sunk the blade deep into his neck. He grabbed at his throat, blood cinematically bursting from his lips. Vanessa watched with wide eyes as her husband’s blood mixed with spit landed on her cheeks. 

The two women watched William Evans Attorney at Law sink to the black tiles drowning on his own blood. Vanessa ran into Amanda’s arms watching curiously as he bled out, his eyes still focused on her. Just before he stopped struggling, just before the last inch of life was sucked out of him, Vanessa hissed “Eat shit, darling”

But Vanessa was no worse for ware. She seemed completely withdrawn from the situation as she cleaned the blood off of her lover’s hands. Will had only thrown her to the ground when she told him she was leaving him, but otherwise survived the entire encounter unscathed. Amanda curiously watched Vanessa deal with the death of her husband as she did with everything, so gracefully. 

“I think the egg shell is better for living room accents than the kitchen. Otherwise we’ll just get stains on them” Amanda finally answered,

Vanessa pressed her lips against Amanda’s, slipping a tongue in to taste her. She’d been drinking that day while she waited for Vanessa in the hotel room. And now she was hers, all hers. 

 

When Michael’s car pulled into the driveway Amanda was already running to answer the door. She could hear Michael’s engine from miles away and knew just by listening if she needed to grab the first aid kit or a bottle of whiskey. This time she was fortunate enough that she didn’t assume he needed either. But when he stepped out of his car she could quickly see the exhaustion spread across his face. This was a different kind of tired, he had sleepy eyes like when Tracey was born and he’d stay up rocking her to sleep. It was the kind of sleepy when Amanda was sick and he would stay awake in case she needed something. It was the exhausted Michael who smiled softly and waved you away if you asked if he needed a break.

As Michael approached Amanda he instinctively wrapped his arms around her. That's what he’d been doing since Amanda and the kids came home. But just as his jacket touched her shoulder he remembered that this wasn’t needed anymore, that the whole gesture was sort of awkward for both of them. He held her anyway for a short while before letting her go. “What’s going on?”

“Well…” Amanda trailed off.

Vanessa went to them now and ushered them inside. She held Michael tight, she always held him so damn tight. Her hugs reminded him of Trevor but he didn’t want to be a complete god damn creep and hug her even tighter like he did with Trevor. 

As she let go she wrapped an arm around Amanda. Michael could see the blood stains on her collar, the remaining flecks stuck to her hair. He raised a brow, but she stopped him before she could continue. “Would you like an Espresso, Michael?”

_ Thank god for Vanessa.  _ “I would literally kill for an espresso” he answered.

He watched Amanda and Vanessa side by side holding one another as they made their way to the kitchen. He caught a glimpse of the living room, a man dead in a pool of his own blood. He sighed as he realized why he’d been called out to Vanessa’s house. But mainly he was exasperated that Amanda was probably going to get pissy that he didn’t remember the guy's name.

Amanda and Michael sat at the kitchen island while Vanessa booted up the espresso machine humming to herself. Michael awkwardly sat there holding his hands, looking at Amanda’s covered in blood. “Looks like you had a fun night” 

“You could say that” She said shakily. Amanda had seen full blown massacres in her lifetime. She’d seen her husband slit a man’s throat, watched Trevor choke the life out of someone even. But she’d never killed someone, not ever in her life. It was starting to sink in that she’d killed him, that he was dead in her girlfriend’s mansion. She wondered if he shit himself before he died. 

“You gonna tell me what happened?” Michael asked as Vanessa brought over three small tiny cups of Espresso.  _ Ah Caffeinated Heaven,  _ Michael thought as he knocked one back. Vanessa herself pushed her cup towards him. He smiled warmly at her but saw that she was watching Amanda who didn’t even acknowledge her cup. 

“Amand” Vanessa’s voice sounded sweet even to Michael, “Do you need a breather?”

“I’m alright...I’m okay, really” Both Vanessa and Michael knew she was lying. But Vanessa knew what she needed. She went around the kitchen counter and hugged her from behind. “You want me to do it?”

Amanda nodded. 

Vanessa didn’t let go, she turned her head to Michael and smiled. “Michael” she called,

“Vanessa” he called back, “You gonna tell me about the body?”

“In a little bit” Michael had seen Vanessa almost everyday since her and Amanda became friends. But he never noticed how serene she always looked. Even with blood on her blouse and her blonde hair stained, she was still the picture of serenity.  _ Is this what Amanda means by find my fucking center? Is that what it looks like? _ “Me and my husband are separated”

He looked at Amanda who wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Just so I’m clear, this whole encounter, it doesn’t end with me dead too, right?”

“Oh, jesus, no!” Vanessa cried, “But you’re getting ahead of yourself”

“Just making sure I don't end up dead, sweetheart”

“And that's smart of you, but you aren’t going  _ to die.  _ But well…” She let go of Amanda now. Amanda turned her head and she looked as if she was at a loss.

Vanessa held Michael’s hands in her’s. Her hands were much softer than any he’d ever held before. “Michael, have you ever felt as if you spent your whole life asleep?”

He chuckled to himself thinking this was some kind of joke. But when Vanessa’s face didn’t change and Amanda looked just as desperate for an answer, he calmed himself down. “I don't know sweetheart, what’d you mean?”

“When I was twelve I kissed a girl, Michael. I didn’t love her, it wasn’t a crush, but I kissed her all the same” Michael stared at the scar on her nose, guessing what came next in this story. “My father was a nice man, but a horrible person. I spent my whole life pretending that kissing Abigail behind church wasn’t the most exhilarating part of my childhood”

“Ah, so her name was Abigail?” Michael laughed.

He was surprised to see Vanessa chuckle as well. He wondered where this was going, if this was Vanessa telling him that her husband raised a hand to her and she killed him. Maybe she realized she was gay and killed him. Either way, the guy was dead, and Michael was curious as to why. “I married Will because I thought I should. I had a son because I thought I should. I never resented my son, Michael. He’s the only light in my life, and for a long time he was the only reason I kept going”

“Alright…” 

“But everyday felt so tiring, Michael. Everyday was such a  _ fucking  _ struggle” Michael may not have paid attention to most of Amanda’s friends, but he was sure that he’d never heard Vanessa swear. “And then I met Amanda”

_ Oh.  _

“And Amanda was what finally woke me up, Michael. Do you understand what i’m saying?”

He was staring at Amanda now. She’d locked eyes with her husband, something desperate behind those eyes who shed so many tears in the past. How many times had he broken her heart and expected her to put it back together only for him to smash it again? Was this another one of those times?

“Mand” he called, “Are you gay?”

“No” she answered shortly, “I like men, and I like women”

_ Huh.  _

“Michael, I have something I need to ask of you. Two things actually, is that okay?”

He sighed. He thanked god for those shots of espresso, “Depends”

“I need you to get rid of Will’s body so that me and Amanda don't get knee deep in the criminal justice system” she requested, “And…”

She looked to Amanda for support. Amanda was smiling now, had a hand on her shoulder. Michael saw then that Amanda was no longer wearing the wedding ring he’d gotten her, but another ring he’d never seen before in his life.

“Michael, I would like to ask your permission to marry your wife”

All he could do was laugh. He let go of Vanessa and slapped his knee turning red face laughing. He couldn’t believe that for all these years of hating himself and being disgusted in who he was, his  _ wife  _ was the same and she was  _ getting married.  _ It was all to ironic to him, all too sad but hilarious at the same time. Amanda’s rage filled up inside of her as she spat, “Fuck you Michael!”

“I don't mean any disrespect, ladies” he laughed, “I just... _ wow.  _ I never saw this shit coming, oh jesus, I cannot  _ wait  _ to tell my therapist about this”

“Jesus you’re a dick!” Amanda yelled, “You know I didn’t want to tell you!”

That was a lie, and Michael knew it. It only made him laugh harder. And much to Amanda’s surprise, Vanessa was laughing too. 

“Michael?” Vanessa called, “You’re an asshole”

“Oh, sweetheart, I  _ know _ ”

“So is that a yes, or a no? Because I’ve already asked Amanda, bought the ring, the act is legal in San Andrea’s and I’m trying to be classy”

Michael stopped laughing but he was beaming. “You have my fucking blessing, girls”

Amanda pursed her lips half expecting Michael to take it back. Not that it mattered, Vanessa was right, this was happening whether Michael liked it or not. For fuck’s sake, Amanda had already started planning the damn thing. But she wanted to believe she had Michael all figured out and there was nothing left he could do to surprise her. 

“Y’know I’d say I got off pretty fucking lucky with this whole thing” Michael chuckled, “I mean, Vanessa, I’m sorry but I never saw you as the killing type”

Vanessa was ready to accept the blame if that's what Amanda needed. But Amanda wanted to surprise Michael, and she wanted to be truthful from here on out. “I did it” 

He raised a brow, giving Vanessa a look before looking back at Amanda. He laughed again, shaking his head. He took Amanda’s shot and threw it back, shaking his head. 

“Can you take care of the body?” Vanessa repeated and for good reason. Michael had actually forgotten for a split second about the body in the living room. He still couldn’t place the guys name.

“I’ll make some calls” He sighed, “Consider it a wedding gift”


	5. Chapter 5

It was three weeks before Michael and Trevor saw each other, and each day was pure torture.

Michael would text Trevor constantly throughout the day about how boring legal work was and how tired he was of signing things. In addition to that, he was in the middle of covering up the murder of one of the most well known lawyers in Los Santos. He ’s had to  teach Amanda and Vanessa  how to keep their stories straight and that was a real pain. 

Trevor on the other hand tried to fill his time with as much as possible so he wouldn’t feel the agony of being away from Michael. He was finally _his_ again, now and forever, but he had to stay away and he hated that. During the day he would work on his planes or run operations with Oscar, during the night he’d cook with Chef, seeing how far he could push himself before it became too much to be in the same room as the glass. 

At night Michael would call him. It was the only saving grace of the day.

Trevor would keep his phone volume on the highest volume and plugged into the wall while he waited. The minute it vibrated he was like a teenage girl laying on his bed with his chin resting in his hand and his legs crossed. He was twenty years old all over again; he’d listen to Michael talk about nonsense for hours and be so happy and so content. He didn’t want Michael to know how happy he was to hear his voice at the end of the day, but Michael knew.

“Whats going on with the house?” Trevor asked,

“Amand is keeping it, Trace wants to move in with one of her classmates and I guess that means I need to find a new place” 

A smile spread across Trevor ’ s face, “You should buy a trailer out in Sandy Shores. I’ve never seen a more appealing porkchop than you baking in the sun”

Michael snorted, “Yeah, sure, T. But I think Sandy Shores is more for you than me, huh?”

“Whatever you say” Trevor sighed.  _ You could live with me again… if you wanted… _ “So, are you gonna tell me what your new mailing address is or am I gonna have to send Wade to find you like before”

“ _ Actually… _ ” Trevor could see Michael doing that fucking neck roll he did as he settled into his plush white couch. Trevor wanted  to stain it the minute he saw it, fuck Michael against the upholstery and let his cum  harden against the fabric. “I was thinking...maybe you’d like to get a place together?”

Trevor cackled,  _ he’s fucking with me, he has to be.  _ “I don’t know Mikey, this is all a little fast for me, huh? I mean I let you eat my ass, but I don’t even get to wear your varsity jacket and  _ now  _ you wanna move in? Jesus, what happened to being a traditionalist!”

“When have we ever done anything traditional?” Michael chuckled, “Look I just...I know you got your place in Sandy Shores, and I know you got the Vanilla Unicorn. But I figure, you’ll be spending a lot of time with me anyway soon so uh...will you  come house hunting with me?”

Trevor rubbed his chin, humming to keep Michael on edge. He knew if Michael got bored of this he’d just tell him to fuck off and hang up. But instead Michael just meekly called out, “T?”

“You aint gettin’ some fuckin’ place in the Rockford Hills right? That place is toxic.”

“I was thinking Del Perro. It’s less shitty there than Vespucci, but there’s a place for sale there if this place ain’t what it’s cracked up to be.”

Trevor swallowed, remember ing Debra and Floyd. He still wasn’t sure what happened, he didn’t think he killed them. But the whole event was just blacked out in his brain. All he could remember was yelling that they weren’t very nice people, and then the next thing he knew he was staring at their dead bodies. He  still hadn’t told Wade about it, just said that Floyd was busy with work. “Not the place on Goma.”

“What, your old place?” Michael questioned, “Nah, nothing like that. There’s this fancier one by the pier, I think you’d like it. It’s a two bedroom, two bath  and doesn’t look like the beach took a giant shit in it and  decided to call it decor.”

“You sayin’  you’re not a slut for seashells, Townley?”

Michael laughed.  _ God,  _ even his laugh was killing Trevor. It made him feel so pure and clean, he wished he could be next to him and tickle him and make him laugh more until they fell into a kiss and finally fucked on that god damn couch. 

“Michael, I need that fucking couch”

“...What?”

“The one at your place right now, you gotta take  it with you.”

Michael sighed, “Did you hide coke in my sofa cushions?”

“Michael you live with  _ Amanda Townley,  _ how much of an asshole do you think I am?”. He hoisted himself up and scratched his dick, wondering if he was gonna jack it to the  thought of fucking Michael on his couch. And then a sick little realization slipped into his mind,  _ he didn’t have to hide that idea.  _ “I want you to fuck me on that couch, M.”

Michael coughed harshly, making Trevor grin big  in response . “I want you to choke on my cock and then take me against the fucking cushions.”

“Trev…” it was that low hum that told Trevor he was pushing Michael in the direction he wanted. He use to do this after Michael started a family. At Jimmy’s  fifth birthday party Trevor would stand against Michael’s back, his cock hard against his ass.  Trevor would whisper something fucking  _ awful  _ in his ear and Michael would spend the whole evening red faced trying to not think about Trevor ’s words , but hope that  he would stick around to fulfill that sweet nothing. 

“Mmm, I want you to fuck me raw, make me scream… make me beg…”

“You’d like that, huh?” Michael whispered, his breath staggered. Trevor could imagine  him splayed out on his couch with one hand  holding his phone and the other around his cock. He  could see him sweating and turning red  just listening to  Trevor’s raspy voice over the line, the things he was asking of him. He hoped that someone would walk in, he’d never live down the embarrassment. “The thing’s I’d do to you, T…”

“Tell me about it cowboy.” Trevor was laying back against the cushions of his bed,  un zipping his jeans and grabbing for his cock like a lifeline. He was already hard, he always got hard even  when their conversations were innocent. “ _ Tell me. _ ”

“I’d give you a finger, then my whole god damn fist.” Trevor shut his eyes, wrapping his hand around his dick and pumping. “Mmm, your head still shaved?”

Trevor growled at the question, it was ruining his mood. “ S’ cropped. ” he answered shortly,

“ Well I guess I’d have to keep you on your back and hold that  throat of yours, huh?” Michael chuckled as Trevor hissed through his teeth.  _ Did we invent phone sex? I know we’ve done this before.  _ “I’d choke you and fuck you until you turned fucking blue. I’d only  let you breathe to stick my tongue in that fucking filthy mouth of yours.”

He could see Michael towering over him, his body  fitting so perfect against  his own .  _ God, _ he wished Michael was inside of him, he wanted him so badly.  Only having him over the line was  _ torture.  _ He pumped himself harder, moaning as he imagined Michael’s lips against his, how his balls would slap against his ass. 

“God, I wanna spank you. You’re such a fucking brat.” Michael moaned. Trevor could hear him getting  closer, and at the rate he was going he  would probably cum before Trevor did. Then Michael would be the ranked  _ One-Pump-Chump.  _

“I wanna cum all over  those fucking cushions, Mike. I wanna scream so loud that our neighbors hear us.”

“ _ Our  _ neighbors?” Michael chuckled, “What happened to  hating tradition?”

“ _ Fuck  _ traditions, and  _ fuck  _ me, Mike”

“Baby… I want you so bad.” Trevor knew the De Santa’s schedule. Jimmy was probably playing video games at that hour and Tracey was probably studying or asleep. But he wished that Michael would scream, he wanted him to moan so loudly that even James could hear it through his headset.

“You want me, cowboy? Huh? Would you cum inside of me, get me pregnant?” 

Michael laughed  breathlessly . Trevor could see him, head against the  back of the couch,  his face red, that vein popping from his neck. “Fuck...I’d fucking cum in your ass and then let you taste my dick... get those lips around it and...and…”

“Yeah cowboy” Trevor moaned as he felt himself rising, wave after wave of hitting him. He fell to his side still pumping himself as he felt his cum against his palm. All he could do was moan,  _ “Mikey… _ ”

“T...Trev” was the last thing said before the two of them  were  panting  loudly over the phone. Trevor was a realist, he knew Michael probably didn’t get a stain on the couch, but he probably got some on his expensive ass suit.  _ God,  _ he hoped it was over $500. 

“God damn it” Michael sighed, “I just got this fucking piece dry cleaned.”

Trevor let out a chuckle, wiping his  hand on the side of  the bed. “My, my, what will Amanda say when you get upstairs?”

“I’ve been sleeping downstairs. Its her house now anyway.”

“Mmm. You gonna tell me who her new boy toy is yet?”

Michael had kept quiet about Vanessa since that night at her house. It was better if Vanessa and Amanda didn’t come out now, not until Will was buried and there was no reason to  suspect her involvement in his murder. For now she was living with them, the excuse being  _ it’s too lonely to go back home.  _ Michael didn’t mind, she bought them a fancy espresso machine her first day there. As far as Michael was concerned, Vanessa was solid. But her secret was her business, even if he wished he could tell Trevor that after all these years Amanda was gay too. 

“Not yet” he answered, “But soon. That okay?”

“As long as you’re truthful, brother.” Michael looked down at his dick going soft in the palm of his hand. He hadn’t even actually  _ fucked  _ Trevor since they reunited, just had angry car sex while he was staying in Sandy Shores. He wanted to be a hopeless romantic and think that they’d have a special first time together in years, but he also knew it would probably  end with him fucking Trevor against a wall. “We should bring Frank and Leroy to that fucking house thing you want to go to. God I haven’t seen the kid in months! Is he eating alright?”

“Frank? Yeah, I saw him…” He actually wasn’t sure  when , he knew that they went out for drinks a lot after Trevor dropped off the face of the earth. He even got to meet Lamar  and was called a creepy old fucker by someone other than Trevor for his efforts . But like Trevor, Franklin  had just sort of dropped off the face of the earth about a month ago, but Michael wasn’t sure. Maybe it was him who stopped being social with the kid, he was  busy  working with Solomon on writing a new movie anyway. 

“Mmm, I’ll call him. We should tell him that his daddies are boyfriends again.”

_Boyfriends._ The term had always sounded strange to him. He’d struggled with himself for so many years that he didn’t even call Trevor that when they were dating before. He was always just a best friend, never a _boyfriend._ But it had a nice jingle to it, something about being Trevor’s made him feel warm. “I’m pretty sure he already knew we were...y’know…”

“ _ What _ Michael?”

_Why’s he always testing me._ “Look, according to Amanda you had to be pretty fucking blind to not realize that there was _something_ ” He explained, “I mean, the kids don’t know, I don’t think. But you’d have to try _really_ hard to not see it”

Trevor chuckled over the line. He was starting to sound sleepy, and he’d probably have to wake up early to meet  up Michael. “You’re still coming to grips with it, huh?”

“I didn’t want to say it for a long time” Michael admitted, “It still feels like I got something to hide… I mean, I  _ do,  _ until I tell the kids.”

Trevor thought about kissing the side of his head, wrapping his arms around him and squeezing the worry out of him. Trevor would occasionally humour the idea of outing Michael, but it was never a _serious_ thought. He knew how challenging this could be for him. He would never cross that line, but he had to admit he was looking forward to coming out to everyone. He wanted Michael to call him his _boyfriend,_ tell everyone that he fucks Trevor goddamn Philips, and jerks himself off to his voice when he calls him at night.

“We can practice on our shared child, sides, you know Frank won’t care. Probably surprised it’s taken this long.” Trevor shrugged,

““Man...you ever think about how Franklin and Lamar… Y’know.”

“God Michael you’re  _ disgusting! _ ” Trevor spat, “That’s our fucking kid you creep”

Michael rolled his eyes, “I don’t mean like that, asshole. I mean...Franklin didn’t have to call us when Lamar got kidnapped by Stretch. But he did, and he drove him home and now…”

“I don’t want to talk about Ludernoff” Trevor deadpanned. He didn’t sound tired anymore, he sounded bored. 

Michael bit his lip, “I know it’s just...If I hadn’t--”

“ _ Michael _ ” he repeated, “ _ I don’t want to talk about it. _ ” 

He swallowed, took a deep breath and massaged the bridge of his nose.  _ I thought we were able to talk about it now, man. I thought we were past this.  _ “Y’know...I’m never gonna forgive you” 

A shot of energy went up  Michael’s spine as Trevor’s voice translated across the phone. Michael was bent over, trying to understand. “The fuck do you mean?” he yelled.

“I  _ mean _ , you fucked me over, Michael. And I love you, but you really are an asshole.” Trevor was sounding tired again. He  had this conversation with himself every time he took a shit to prepare for when he told Michael. It was his truth to tell,  not an argument to be had, but he knew Michael would hate hearing it nonetheless. “You remember the time I got stabbed and almost died on your front step Mikey?  You remember  how you did  nothing but slam the door in my fucking face and  _ Amanda _ had to be the one to make sure I didn’t fucking die out there?”

_ God.  _ It was before Ludernoff that that happened, but Michael remembered the memory  vividly . It happened after he told Trevor  their partnership was over  after they ran  this last job. They didn’t speak, or at least Michael outright refused to even acknowledge Trevor. They only  ever saw each other  while planning the heist in the confines of Brad’s trailer. The whole time, Trevor  stared at Michael  with the same broken look on his face he had after dissolving their partnership. 

Trevor only got worse in the months leading up to that heist. He got skinnier, his muscles  shrunk , his eyes became  lifeless , his frown even more  pronounced against his cheeks. He adhered to Michael’s threat, that if he came near his  precious family again he’d kill him. But  late  one night Michael  had looked outside and saw Trevor standing under the streetlight, drinking out of a paper bag. For a few minutes they stared at each other; Michael from the comfort of his home and Trevor from the streets.  Even from a distance h e could tell Trevor had been on a  relentless bender , and that he was probably high before he was drunk, but he didn’t know what to do now that he was in that state. Michael ignored him.  He knew it cut Trevor like a knife , but he did it anyway.

About thirty minutes later  there was a weak knock at the door , and despite Michael’s protests, Amanda answered it. Trevor was curled up on the porch like a  wounded stray, holding his gut as  the roar of a motorcycle faded . Amanda  had  shrieked for Michael to come, but he didn’t say anything  as he peered over her shoulder at the scene in front of him. Trevor just looked at him,  a desperate plea across his face.  _ If you love me you’ll save me, if you  _ _ ever loved _ _ me you’ll save me. _ But he didn’t. Instead, he slammed the door, and when Amanda screamed at him to do something, he just locked himself in their bedroom. 

It was Amanda who ended up  calling Lester to ask if she should call an ambulance, if Trevor even had insurance or if a hospital was the worst idea.  It was Amanda,  a woman who vehemently  despised Trevor with every ounce of her being,  who had to soothe him and tell him that  _ you’re gonna be fine, you’re not going to die.  _ Michael had put earplugs in and tried to go to sleep.

“I’m sorry.” he finally said, his voice cracking.

“You’re a fucking asshole.” Trevor repeated. Michael could see him settling into his bed, he’d probably go to sleep after this  and Michael would stay up all night thinking about all of the things he’s  put him through . “Michael...I love you, man. I tried to kill myself when you faked your goddamn death, and I really don’t think I could live without you. But shit… God, you were a terrible person.”

_ “Were? _ ”

“We’re almost fifty. We ain’t got much time left on this planet. Hell, we’re  both lucky we made it this far. But this is the last part of our lives, Mikey. And I wanna spend it with you…  _ but, _ if you break my fucking heart again, that’s it. No more chances, M. This is your last one.”

It wasn’t meant to be a threat, but it felt like it  one Michael. He breathed hard, trying to imagine a world without Trevor by his side. Trevor would be fine without him. TPI, as ridiculous  as it sounded , had made Trevor a businessman. He owned  and operated businesses throughout Los Santos and Blaine County. He ran drugs, guns, and  even  some knock off handbags  once . Trevor wasn’t that twenty year old runaway who killed his first man for Michael anymore. He was an adult, his own person, and Michael knew he would survive without him. But Michael knew he couldn’t survive without Trevor.

“I won’t do it, baby. I won’t break your heart ever again, and if I do...T?”

“Mmm?”  _ Unbelievable, he’s already falling asleep. _

“If I do, you fucking put one between my eyes, you hear me?”

Trevor laughed, “Hot.”

Michael could hear his breathing slow,  grunting  as  he tried to get comfortable . He probably still had the phone against his ear as he shut his eyes Michael knew he’d wake up with  a dead battery tomorrow  and  he’d find a way to blame Ron for it. Michael  ached to kiss the dove under his ear. “Hey, T, can I ask you something?”

“Mmm.”

"You sure you love me?"

It was a challenge, a trial. If Trevor didn’t love him then none of this was worth it, he might as well be dead. He hated himself anyway, so if Trevor hated him too, then what was the point? But of course, Trevor was always full of surprises. 

"Baby, I've loved you since you crash landed into my heart."

Michael smiled  softly , settling back into the sofa cushions. He  stayed on the line  until Trevor start snoring  quietly , and texted him goodnight so that he would know he didn’t abandon him. 

He stared at the  drying stains on his shirt and groaned.  Most of his  stuff was in boxes by this point, and he was living out of suitcases. Amanda  and Vanessa had  tirelessly organized his boxes and luggage so that  he knew where everything was, but since  moving downstairs he  had ruined  their entire  system in one night. Now everything was all mixed together and it took Michael a while just to find a pair of socks. 

As he searched one of the boxes for a clean shirt he heard the  soft pattering of bare feet on tile . His blood ran cold and he turned around, hoping to God it was just a fucking cat that had snuck into the house. But of course it wasn’t.

Vanessa was in her pajamas with a mug of tea in her hands ,  unable to meet his eye . “Evenin’, Michael.” was all she could muster.

“Jesus  _ fucking  _ Christ” He  groaned, covering  his face in embarrassment. He didn’t ask how much of that conversation she heard, he knew she heard the whole thing. He shook his head, “Can you just make a fucking  _ noise  _ next time?”

“ In my defense, I did say hello when I went into the kitchen to make my tea.” She murmured, “ But I think you were, uh, distracted... ”

This was worse than any other situation he’d been caught in. At least back in the day, if he was caught he would be exiled from the house until Amanda forgave him. But there he was,  standing there with half-dried cum on his shirt, his phone charging on the end table and Vanessa trying her best to make this situation less horrible for the both of them. 

“Please,  just... don’t tell Amanda” 

“I don’t  think I want to tell anyone.” She said taking a sip of her tea. “My son...he um...It was mainly socks with him? Anyway... use dishwasher soap on your shirt, it should help.”

He inhaled sharply, forcing a strained smile. “Thanks.”

“Yeah… I’ll, uh, see you later?”.

“See you later.”

Somewhere out in Blaine County, Trevor Philips was smirking to himself.

***

As Michael cracked his eyes open the next morning he was met with a new scene in his strange life.

Caked in the morning sunshine stood Vanessa cooking breakfast with Amanda so happily setting the table. The thick smell of bacon wafted through the house for the first time in years and it hit Michael square in the gut. It reminded him of those early mornings in North Yankton with Trevor and Lester at a rinky dink diner planning their next small time heist. Bacon reminded him of running out on his bill or chewing on it like jerky when he’d gone days without food and he wasn’t sure when his next meal was. Now worrying about his next meal was barely something that should cross his mind, but the memories remained where his instincts had dulled.

He remained resting against the couch. His back was sore from trying to make room on it, but it was his own fault. He could’ve gotten a hotel room but things were strangely pleasant in the De Santa home for the first time in years. It was like everyone actually enjoyed each other’s company, rather than tolerated one another. Or maybe Michael was just living in another day dream. 

Amanda caught him sleepily watching her from the living room. She smiled,  _ actually  _ smiled, and called out, “Michael, jesus, don't you have that thing today?”

“Yeah at noon” He answered sleepily as he sat up. He’d made another mess with all of his boxes again. After Vanessa left he kept going through his things, looking for something special, just for Trevor. He’d tucked it away in a Ponsoby’s bag by his shoes so he wouldn’t forget, speaking of which he began to wonder  _ where’d my shirt from last night go? _

And then suddenly he remembered  _ Vanessa.  _ She was avoiding his gaze but  _ they both knew.  _ He’d left his shirt out to dry on the counter the night prior. It had been moved to the top of one of the boxes, Michael could only imagine which of the women was the one to touch it. He hoped to christ Vanessa didn’t do it, they’d shared way too intimate a moment to have another one like that again. 

“ _ Michael _ ” Amanda called, “It's eleven thirty”

“ _ What?! _ ” he shot up, panic stricken across his face. All Amanda could do was laugh, shaking her head as Michael ran about the living room like a chicken with his head cut off. 

“Jesus, I was suppose to pick him up an hour ago!”

Vanessa smirked from behind the kitchen island as she set the plates, “Seeing Amanda should’ve been a good indicator you were late. Little Dolly tries to sleep until noon everyday”

“Yeah well uh,  _ my dolly,  _ sleeps like a fucking log but I got a lot to make up to ‘em” Michael sighed as he grabbed a cleanish looking pair of slacks off the ground and a polo that smelled okay and was free of pit stains.  _ God,  _ did Trevor even think like this? Didn’t he just grab what was on the ground?  _ I love him so much,  _ thought Michael dreamily.

He didn’t even bother leaving the room to change, hell what did it matter? In a few days he’d be moved out, and in a week him and Amanda’s divorce would be final. Besides, the two of them had seen him in a way he had wished that they hadn’t, so he didn’t care what else they saw. 

As he laced his belt through his pants he could already hear the familiar sound of an engine roaring as the gates out front creaked open. Amanda was at the kitchen island kissing Vanessa on the cheek as she turned on Cyndi Lauper’s  _ “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun”.  _ Lauper’s ballad flooded out of the house as Michael tore the door open, pulling his baby blue polo over his head. 

There was Trevor in his floral pink sundress and Michael’s Ponsoby’s sunglasses standing up against the blazing red Bodhi. Trevor grinned big as he saw Michael taking him in, Lauper’s ballad fighting against Trevor’s bootleg Cheap Trick’s  _ “I Want You To Want Me”  _ live show taping.

“You’re late, sugar tits” Trevor chuckled, “You never change”

Michael made his way over, wrapping his arms around him. Still he was so careful, and so  _ fucking  _ terrified. Even just being within confines of the gates surrounding his mansion he felt so exposed. He’d started telling himself in the mirror every night before bed  _ I’m a bisexual man in love with another man  _ but even that statement felt strange in his brain. He wanted to be careful with Trevor, but also careful with himself as he struggled to accept the part of him he’d repressed for so long.

But Trevor, on the other hand, did not give two shits about gentleness and care. He dipped Michael over and gave him a slobbery kiss on the lips. He kissed him like he’d keel over and die if he didn’t get enough of him. Trevor was so ready to be his, so ready for Michael to belong to him after all these years. He didn’t need to say anything to himself to get comfortable with the idea, he knew who he was and he knew who Michael was.

Their passionate kiss echoed one of Michael’s favourite scene from  _ Nelson in Naples  _ was interrupted by Amanda running out barefoot with a black Ponsoby’s bag. Of course Amanda saw it and knew what he was planning, and now that they were friends, she wanted to make sure he didn’t fuck up anymore than usual. “You forgot this” She called,

“Aw shit, thanks Amand” Michael smiled as he took the bag. Trevor’s eyes narrowed as he reached for the bag in vein,

“The fucks that?” He spat,

“A surprise” Michael answered pulling the bag away from Trevor’s grasp.

“I  _ hate  _ surprises” Trevor growled, but Michael was already walking around the side of the truck. They were late enough, and that bag was for later. Defeated, Trevor turned his gaze to Amanda. “Aaa-mmm-anda, when am I gonna get to meet your new boy toy, huh?”

“When i’m sure you don't tear them to shreds” She jabbed playfully,

“Aw c’mon Mandy! We had good times! I mean, I watched you shake it, doesn't that count for anything?”

“I’ll tell you when I wanna tell you, jesus! You’re worse than Mike”

“Ah! Wrong! Michael, see, he’s an asshole. He’ll keep prodding, he won't shut the fuck up” Trevor said with a pointed finger in Michael’s direction, but he was just enjoying the show between his soon to be ex-wife and  _ boyfriend.  _ The word still felt strange just to think. “But me? I’m a gentleman. I’ll  _ wait,  _ Amanda, alright? I’ll wait and then you’ll tell me and you’ll  _ love  _ me for waiting! Because love waits!”

Amanda rolled her eyes, “Alright, you two have fun today. Dont burn the fucking house if you’re not gonna buy”

“No promises, sweetheart” Trevor called as he slammed the truck door shut.

Immediately as he began to pull out of the driveway, Michael put his hand on Trevor’s. Trevor watched him out of the corner of his eyes as Michael leaned over and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. His lips resting against Trevor’s stubble for a moment before he pulled away smiling. “It's good to be back together, T”

“You said it”

***

Trevor barely slowed the Bodhi down as they pulled up Franklin’s mansion. Him and Lamar were sitting on the hood of his car smoking when they rolled up. Immediately Franklin was yelling for Trevor to stop the car but all he did was speed it up some, only slowing down for Lamar to jump in the back. 

Once both were in the truck bed, Lamar and Trevor were bumping fists, Michael waved to Franklin. “Yo, its good to see you creepy dudes again, but I gotta be real?” Lamar laughed, “Its better to see you Crazy Dude, where you been?”

“Mmm, out and about. I assume you’ve been treating my  _ son,  _ Franklin alright?”

Lamar laughed nervously, wrapping an arm around Frank and kissing the top of his head. Franklin playfully pushed him away but kept him around him. “Yeah, he’s a sensitive bitch though. Blanket hog and shit”

“My shrink use to say thats because of abandonment issues” Michael added taking out a cigarette, which Trevor promptly tore from his lips and threw out the side of the truck. 

“Abandonment issues? Shit, I cant get rid of nobody. Between you two and Lamar, I got the opposite of abandonment issues”

“See? Sensitive little bitch” Lamar tutted

“Now, Lamar, I know that you and Frank have been...Rolling? Is that what the kids call it?”

“Man what fuckin’ kids you been talking to?” Franklin said rolling his eyes, 

“ _ Hey,  _ shut the fuck up! I love you, but shut the fuck up” Trevor growled as Michael attempted to take another cigarette out, but Trevor slapped the package onto the truck floor “Lamar, you’re a sweet kid. But if you fuck with Frank in  _ anyway  _ that ain't how you’re supposed to, I’ll cut your goddamn dick off”

Lamar laughed, “Yeah I know you like cuttin’ off dicks as much as suckin’ ‘em, yeah homie?”

“More than you know” Michael said under his breath as he reached down for his packet, but Trevor pulled him up by his collar. 

“Not in my truck, Sugar Tits!” he yelled, “You know, I don't know what the fuck happened to respect. I mean in my day, you  _ ask  _ someone’s folks before you start fucking someone”

“You’ve met my mother?” Michael exclaimed sarcastically, but instead of an expected bout of rage, Trevor looked at him with his eyebrows raised. He gestured Franklin and Lamar with his head, making Michael settle into his seat. He felt his heart beating faster than a hummingbird against his rib cage as sweat began to gather on his forehead. Trevor reached over and squeezed his hand, smiling. 

“The fuck is going on?” Lamar asked watching them

“Y’know Frank, you’re a lucky kid” Michael coughed nervously, “I mean, y’know, lucky in the sense that you get to come around with me and T”

“Oh yeah, getting shot at, robbed, and blackmailed by the FIB for almost a year was always a fuckin’ goal for me”

“You wanna be the one to tell him?” Trevor asked,

“I think you should”

“The  _ fuck  _ are you guys talking about?”

“Well Frank, me and Michael have decided that you and Lamar get to be the first to know, that your daddies...are now boyfriends”

Lamar broke into a hysterical laugher holding his gut as Franklin sighed, “Man, I mean, thanks for tellin’ me”

“ _ Thanks _ ? Y’know this whole thing is kind of a big deal” Michael frowned. He didnt know what he was expecting, but he wasnt exactly upset about the results. Franklin seemed to always know what was between Trevor and Michael, so maybe this was just stating the obvious for him.

“Michael  _ always  _ wants things to be a big deal”

“Creepy dude and crazy dude are really fuckin’? Man! This shit is rich!”

“Aint you two like, hate each other though?”

“Can you really love someone and not hate them a little bit? See thats why Michael and Amanda would’ve  _ never  _ worked out, they hated each other, didn’t love each other,  _ lusted  _ after each other sure but the love to hate ratio was all off. Me and him? Its perfect”

“Including the lust factor?” Lamar joked,

“Oh  _ yes _ ” Trevor growled moving his hand to Michael’s crotch. His hand was quickly batted away as Michael rolled his eyes.

“Are we the daddies you always wanted, Frank?” Michael continued

“Man, hell no! I only ever wanted one dad, not two crazy old dudes I gotta take care of more than they do me!”

“Aww, he’s so grown up” Trevor cooed reaching in the back to pinch Frank’s cheek, but just ended up accidentally sticking a finger up his nose.

“I’m proud of as a fuckin’ peacock” Michael chuckled,

“Man fuck y’all” Franklin scoffed

“Shit, aint we already homie?” Lamar laughed

***

The house was situated along the Del Perro Freeway just nine houses down from Doctor Friedlander’s office. Last Michael heard of the guy he had suffered extensive injuries from an  _ “anonymous”  _ assailant which he has refused to press charges against. While Michael wasn’t entirely sure if the good doctor would become his new neighbor, he imagined that he would stay far from him and his new life. 

Besides it was far enough away, and it wasn’t exactly hard to miss if Friedlander was afraid of bumping into him. It was two stories, terracotta orange modernist style beach house with a nice little grassy garden area on the side.

As the group came out of the Bodhi they were met by a short chubby real estate agent with a smile to match her “For Sale” sign. Of course Trevor licked his lips looking at her, but Michael elbowed him. 

They must’ve been a sight. Bald Trevor in his favourite sundress, Michael in a mix match outfit of slacks and a dirty polo, and Lamar wearing Franklin's basketball shirt that was two sizes too big. Franklin was the only one who looked like he was in the market to buy a house, but Janice’s smile didn’t waver. “Mr. De Santa and family?” She asked,

He smiled, placing a hand on Trevor’s back, “Thats right”

“Well I’m Janice, Janice Wallace. It's a pleasure to meet you!” She beamed holding out her hand. Michael shook it as she looked over the group, still smiling. “I know Michael, so  _ you  _ must be the life partner?” She said looking to Trevor who immediately burst out laughing.

He wrapped an arm around Michael, forcing a fake lisp “ _ Life Partner?  _ Ooo Michael, is it true?”

“He’s my uh... _ boyfriend _ ” It sounded less strange the more he said it. Now when he said it an automatic smile spread across his face bashfully. “This is Frank, our son. And that's Lamar, his boyfriend”

“Damn I’m the boyfriend! Not even the life partner!” Lamar scoffed,

“Man you wanna move in that direction we can talk about it in a few years!” Franklin cried, “And you sayin’ I’m the sensitive bitch, tsk”

Janice held her hand out to shake both of their hands, letting out a little giggle. “Y’know I think it's just  _ wonderful,  _ couples like all of you. I had a girlfriend in college”

“You still got a girlfriend in college?” Trevor asked, but he was met with another jab from Michael. Nevertheless, Janice laughed waving him away playfully. 

She lead them inside of the still furnished house that smelled of fresh paint and new carpet. All the while Trevor kept his hands around Michael, usually reverting to holding him from behind and resting his chin on the top of Michael’s head. Janice explained the neighborhood, that Del Perro was a lot quieter and posh than Vespucci Beach. She mentioned that despite the freeway the air quality was better than the rest of Los Santos, and mentioned that joggers could often be seen in the morning with a wink towards Michael.

Towards the end of the tour she lead the group outside to show them the small grassy area with finely trimmed grass and brilliant flowers that rested under a curtain of decorative moss. “Are you planning on having children?” She asked Franklin

Franklin immediately crossed his arms as Lamar rested his elbow on his shoulder. “Damn, she askin’ all the questions I wanna know!” Lamar laughed,

“So what if we do?”

At this Lamar and Trevor lost it and began squealing. Michael covered his mouth as he laughed while Franklin contained his professional posture. In the background Lamar and Trevor high fived and turned red laughing. 

“Well, this house is especially wonderful if you  _ are  _ planning on having children. Afterall, what's a visit to Grandpa’s if you can't play outside?” Janice continued with her permanent smile. 

For whatever reason this seemed to get Trevor down. He calmed down from squealing with Lamar and returned to Michael’s side. Now he stood with his shoulders slumped, rubbing his arms as he looked at the beach. “You get a lot of junkies in this area?” He asked abruptly,

This seemed to finally break through to Janice, whose smile wavered for a second before it returned. “Well, I can't speak for the neighbors, but Del Perro has been known to be a sort of...party spot, especially in the summers. But there have been no deaths in this area, not for a while, and certainly not due to drug use”

“I ain't askin’ ‘bout deaths, I’m asking about junkies, users. You see a lot of glass moved through this place?”

Michael looked at him with concerned look in his eyes. He put a hand on Trevor’s arm but he flinched, taking a few steps away from him. He shot him daggers as Michael attempted to touch him again. Lamar latched onto Franklin and whispered something in his ear. 

“Glass?” Janice repeated.

“Meth” Trevor corrected

She nodded slowly, exchanging worried looks towards Michael. “I don't believe so”

Trevor broke into a little chuckle, happy with himself. “S’good, don't want the little future kiddies running into junkies,  _ right  _ Michael?” He said with a sneer.

Despite his intentions, that last statement made Janice smile again. “Would you like to see the second floor?”

“Well shit, don't hold out on us” Franklin laughed trying to smooth things over while Lamar worriedly watched Trevor and Michael.

“We’ll meet you up there” Michael forced a smile, putting his hands on the back of Trevor’s dress. Trevor shot around, batting his hands away, his pout returned to his lips as he glared at Michael.

Janice nodded and complied, holding the door open as a nervous Franklin and Lamar entered the house again.

Trevor licked his lips looking at Michael with tired eyes, his chest rising as he inhaled. “What? What are you gonna bitch to me about now, huh, Townley?” He spat, but Michael didn’t say anything to him. Instead he just stood before him, hands in his pockets. 

“What's goin’ on, T?”

“Fuck you” 

He sighed, “If this isn’t a place you can see yourself, we don't gotta--”

“It  _ ain't,  _ my place. It's  _ your  _ place”

“You wanna put your name on the lease too? We can do that, T”

“That’s not the fucking  _ point,  _ Mikey”

“Then what's the problem?”

Trevor chewed on his bottom lip, avoiding his gaze. Trevor didn’t lie, he didn’t hide feelings, he was a freight train that never stopped chugging along. Maybe that's why it so hard for him to say what he said next, why he winced as if he was getting burned when he admitted, “You never wanted me around your family before, how’s it gonna be any different now?”

Michael looked away, a flush of guilt watching over him. How many times did Michael refuse to let Trevor hold a crying Tracey just to make him feel useless? Didn't Michael let Amanda tear open any presents Trevor bought the kids as if he was trying to smuggle coke in Jimmy’s new game station? Trevor had been a constant sight when he was allowed around the Townley kids. He did, and still did, consider Tracey and Jimmy to be his children. He was always so careful with them, and treated them with more tenderness and care than Michael had ever seen him. Hell, Michael had seen the old polaroid of a younger Trevor with Tracey’s arms around his neck and Jimmy on his lap pinned to his trailer. Trevor loved them, no doubt, they were everything to him. But then Michael forced him away, treated him so poorly when he knew Trevor had no one else. Before Michael ‘died’ in 2004, he told Trevor months prior that he didn’t want to see Trevor around him or his family again after their last job, effectively breaking his heart.

“I  _ did  _ want you around” Michael tried but all he got was another glare from Trevor who had began scratching his neck. Michael knew that meant he was itching for a fix, the telltale sign before the storm. “I’m still a dick, T. I am. But you’re my family, and I ain't gonna shut you out. Any family I got is yours”

“You still gonna want me around when I relapse?”

Michael bit his tongue, wanting to ask  _ are you relapsing now?  _ He’d never seen Trevor this sober, he didn't know how to act. All he could do was try his best to be as truthful as he could manage, “Trev, if you can't take it and you relapse...that's fine with me” he said with a great deal of uncertainty behind those words. Friedlander had tried for years to explain to Michael that relapse was a vital part of recovery, and it didn't make you any worse for it. Still Michael knew the pain that came with it. “I’ll hold you, I’ll protect you until you come down from it. I won't let anyone hurt you, and I won't let you hurt yourself. I’m gonna take care of you, T. I’m not goin’ anywhere and you aint goin’ anywhere without me alright?”

Trevor shut his eyes, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Michael wished he could tear open Trevor's brain and see what was inside. He never knew what the guy was thinking and it drove him insane. Was he reaching him? Did Trevor even care that he was reaching out? He wanted answers and he wanted to crack open Trevor’s skull and find out for himself. 

“I don't believe you about any of this, M. Feels like some fake bullshit you’d pull just to get me riled up”

Michael frowned, “This? The house, the--”

“Yeah” Trevor exhaled, “I’m use...I’m use to makin’ promises but always goin’ back on them. You never tell the truth, and this all just feels like one big fat fucking lie”

Michael took a shaky inhale. All he did was lie before, but he was trying to start a new. But he had to sit with the fact that Trevor had every reason to think that this was just a plan to fuck him over. He knew he deserved that distrust, and he couldn’t force him to trust him. How many tears did Trevor shed in the confines of his metal trailer in Sandy Shores because he thought Michael died? How many times did Trevor punch his mirror because all he saw was the fact that Michael once loved? How many christmases, birthdays, new years did he spend alone because he couldn’t bare to spend them with anyone else? 

Michael began towards the gate, gesturing for Trevor to follow. He stayed behind for a second while Michael held the gate open for him, as if he was waiting for a bullet to come crashing through his skull. 

But he followed behind him. He watched Michael strut back to the Bodhi, how he hoisted his heavy body over the door and grabbed the black Ponsoby’s bag from the front seat. Trevor watched him curiously as his dress blew in the wind while cars raced past them. He let himself daydream of sleeping in the same bed as Michael, running his hands through his hair, listening to the sound of cars zooming past  _ their _ home. But he quickly dismissed that idea. It was too sweet a dream for him. 

Michael handed the bag over, a big dopey smile on his face “Check it out”

Trevor narrowed his eyes watching Michael before he turned his head down. He pushed back the decorative black tissue paper when a familiar royal blue caught his eyes. He looked back at Michael who was smiling even bigger now as Trevor tried to piece together just what the fuck was happening.

He grabbed the old leather royal blue sleeve and tore it out of the bag, letting the designer paper bag fall to the ground. And there it was, royal blue, golden yellow, and pure ivory white. The colors of Michael’s high school football team. Trevor held it in his hands, the name  _ “TOWNLEY”  _ spread out on the back. 

He looked up at Michael again, a desperate look on his face. Completely at a loss for words, he just kept staring at the old thing that was just as weathered and beat up as the two men. Trevor remembered when Michael first let him wear it, they were twenty one. They were working an operation out north, and Trevor didn’t own any winter coats. Michael only had a backpack of belongings, and with little to no room for trinkets, he only kept one prized possession. His varsity jacket. “Gee, are you gonna ask me out to prom too?” Trevor chuckled as he wrapped it around himself. It smelled like Michael, they’d only known each other a year by that point but Michael’s smell was more intoxicating to Trevor than any drug he’d ever taken or any sip of alcohol he’d ever had. 

“Dunno, thought a guy like you would already have a date” Michael smiled back. 

Over the years, Michael would sometimes let Trevor wear it. Those were treasured moments, when Michael felt the most open, when Trevor felt the most vulnerable. He’d wear it with nothing else on in a motel room after they fucked and Michael whispered to him how he loved him so much he didn't know what to do about it. He’d wear it in a diner while they waited for Lester to deliver their take from the most recent take and Michael would comment that Cherry Pie reminded him of home. He’d wear it when Michael first confessed to Trevor that he would be lost without him after Trevor was fatally shot for the first time in front of Michael and couldn't stop shivering.

Then in a second, it was gone. Then it was Amanda’s, fucking Amanda who stank it to high heavens with her cheap perfume and stained it with her lipstick. Trevor would fume when he saw her wearing it, as if she had stolen the skin off his back. 

But here it was, back in his hands, his again.

“It's yours, T” Michael finally said shakily. He wasn’t sure what Trevor would do once he saw it, and now all he was doing was just gawking at it.

“You gonna ask me to be your girl?” Trevor tried to force a laugh but it just came out like the words were being squeezed out of him.  _ This son of a bitch snake is trying to get me to cry.  _

“I want you to be my everything. This is for real, man!” Michael put his hands on Trevor’s arms again, this time he didn’t bat them away. Trevor was smiling again, he put his dangly arms through the puffy sleeves and gave an approving grunt as he felt the old leather caress his skin again. Michael thought he was a fucking looker with his sundress and varsity jacket. “So you wanna see the upstairs?”

Trevor laughed to himself as he put a hand on the faded forgotten mascot patch on the breast. He put a single arm around Michael’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss, and now Michael kissed him back. Trevor shut his eyes, trying to get it through his mind that this was real, and it wasn’t some dream. But he was still so  _ fucking petrified  _ that he’d wake up once Michael pulled away and he’d be alone again.

But Michael didn’t leave him. He stayed with his lips pressed against his, mouth open as he tasted the cheap beer he’d had for breakfast on the way over to Los Santos.  _ I’d bleed for you, I’d kill for you, don't you fucking forget it.  _

“Ay, y’all gonna come see this fucking house or are you gonna be fuckin’ out in the truck like a couple of creepy ass white dudes?” Lamar yelled from the second story window. In the background was Franklin shaking his head, and Janice and her endless sunshine watching the two of them.

Trevor didn't pull away, in fact he pulled Michael in closer. Michael could only turn his head slightly to shout back out of the corner of his mouth, “Y-Yeah, give us a minute!”

“More than a minute” Trevor whined,

“I’ll give you all the fucking time in the world once we finish this, alright?”

Trevor groaned, “You sure know how to cockblock a guy”

“Who says I’m cockblocking? I’m bring the couch aint I?”

Trevor cupped Michael’s chin in his hands and licked his lips, effectively making Michael stumble back wiping his mouth. “Dude, seriously?”

“Hey, if you weren’t into that, you shouldn’ta given’ Ol’ Trev your jacket” He chuckled with his hands in his pockets. Michael put his hand around Trevor’s waist leading him back inside. Before they reached the front door again, Michael stood on his tip toes and licked Trevor’s cheek. He pushed Michael’s face, 

“Dude! Hygiene! I don't know where the fuck that tongue’s been!”

“It was just--”

“You gotta get your shit together, friend” Michael rolled his eyes, his cheeks beginning to cramp from the smile on his face.

***

The second floor of the house was where the bedrooms and bathrooms were located. The master bedroom featured floor to ceiling windows with stunning views of the beach and the boardwalk. Janice, in her infinite pep, also made it a point that despite the closeness of the houses, the walls locked in sound, especially the bedrooms. Trevor giggled, nudging Michael and lisping, “ _ Didya  _ hear that  _ Mikey _ ?”

Michael wiped his mouth, “Yeah yeah”

The master bedroom also had its own deck that connected to the ground floor via a stairwell cut off by a locked gate. While they looked at the deck Michael thought about whether or not Trevor would tease him over his morning and afternoon yoga. He could already see him coming up behind him doing downward dog, or wrapping his arms around him when he went into the mountain pose. Meanwhile Lamar jumped up and down, nodding “This is a good deck”

“You know about decks, huh?” Franklin chuckled,

“Shit I been livin’ with you in that white people mansion in the Vinewood hills”

“It ain't a white people mansion if it's us livin’ in it, dog”

“Look, this is a good deck. Old dudes aint gonna break their god damn necks out here doin’ they fuckin’  _ Yoga  _ and  _ Sunrise rituals _ ”

Trevor held up his hand, “Ah, Michael is the asshole who does that. Not me”

Michael rolled his eyes as he rested against the railing and looked out the beach. 

He could see the bench where all of this started a year ago. He’d just left Friedlander’s office after another meltdown about how much he hated himself and his life. Just as he began to have a breakthrough, the good doctor made sure to cut their session and ask for his pay. Afterwards Michael went out to that bench two doors down for a cigarette. As he watched the waves he tried once again digest the fact that all that he sacrificed was for nothing except expensive scotch and a lonely mansion. Then walked by two young men who asked Michael for directions to the Bertolt beach house. 

He never thought in his wildest fucking dreams that a year later he’d be seven doors down mulling over buying a beach house with Trevor Philips who had gone from a haunting ghost of his past to his boyfriend. Further, he wouldn’t have expected that the kid who he gave directions to the Bertolt house would have become akin to a son to him, and he’d tagged along with  _ his  _ boyfriend.  _ “We can't predict how our lives pan out, Michael. We can only make the best of it”  _ Echoed Friedlander in the back of his skull.  _ Well I don't need to make the best of this, this is the best my life has been in a long time.  _

“Mikey!” Trevor shouted, effectively bringing Michael back to reality.

“What?” He yelled back as he turned,

“Would you like a moment to discuss?” Janice repeated herself, that eternal smile still plastered on her face. “I could wait downstairs!  _ Ooo,  _ I have this  _ gorgeous  _ home in the Rockford Hills, maybe you two would like to take a gander at some photos?” she asked Franklin and Lamar.

“Nah, we good. We gotta place in out in the Vinewood hills” Lamar answered, arms slung around Franklin, “But I dunno, baby, whatchu think? You wanna vacation home in the Rockford hills?”

“ _ Vacation home?  _ Rockford hills is a twenty minute drive, that shit aint a fuckin’ vacation! It's a commute!”

Lamar clicked his tongue, “See, Janice? My boy here? Sensitive little bitch”

“Man fuck you” Franklin snickered, pushing his face. 

Janice lead the boys back downstairs to talk while Michael and Trevor stayed out on the deck. Michael rested against the railing as Trevor pulled him in at his waist. “Well?” Trevor cooed,

“I think it's nice” Michael shrugged,

“ _ Just  _ nice? C’mon Mikey! It's a fucking million dollar beach house! You can either  _ love  _ it, or we can find another place” Trevor groaned, “So fucking careless with your money!”

“Said the guy who bought a fucking Impotent Rage statue for $500 just last week!” Michael rebuffed,

“It was  _ limited edition!  _ And, $500 is like, $5 to us now!”

Michael smiled, putting his hands under Trevor’s jacket and pulling him in closer. Trevor’s smile was pure fucking sunshine to Michael. He wondered if Friedlander was across the way watching Michael and him holding each other so tenderly. After years of working on Michael’s  _ sexual problems,  _ it seemed that Michael had made a full breakthrough without the help of Doctor Isiah Friedlander. “Are you happy here?” Michael asked,

“I’m happy  _ anywhere,  _ Sugar Tits”

“No I mean…” Michael glanced up at him, giving him a kiss on the cheek. He could feel Trevor turning his head for a kiss, but Michael pulled away. He wrapped his arms around him and faced the sea, shutting his eyes. “Alright, shut your eyes”

“Shut my  _ what? _ ” Trevor yelled,

“Just shut your damn peepers, alright?”

Trevor groaned, but Michael couldn’t tell if he was complying or not. Regardless he went on as he began to gently caress Trevor’s forearms. “Imagine this: You and me, older, greyer. Maybe my kids got their shit together, or Frank and Lamar decided ‘yeah, kids?’ So we got a few grandkids, they’re on the side of the house where the garden is. They’re laughing, fighting, it's a nice sound. One of your mixtapes is playing from downstairs on that ancient tape deck you still got working despite it belonging it in a fuckin’ museum. Ron, Wade, Chef, maybe they’re here along with Amanda, Trace, Jimmy, and Frank. But you and me? We’re up here, on our deck, lookin’ out at the ocean like the dumbest, happiest,  _ sappiest  _ sons of bitches in the world. Are we standing on  _ this  _ deck, or are we somewhere else?”

As Michael opened his eyes he felt Trevor’s chest rise and fall, a shaky sniffle coming from behind. Michael turned his head and saw Trevor wiping the tears off his cheeks with Michael’s jacket. “Fuck you! It's the fucking...recovery...shit they got me on” He sniffled,

Michael smiled, craning his neck to kiss one of his tears. “What’d you say, huh? This the place?”

“You gonna actually stick around around this time, Townley?”

“The only place I got to be is right here, T” He smiled resting his forehead against his neck. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait y'all!  
> I hope you've enjoyed this chapter! So sorry for the wait. EXTRA SPECIAL THANKS 2 Kingtownley for looking over this chapter when it was in its Beta phase, and also to Buscemies for givin' me all of these house hunting idea's!  
> I think that maybe I'll be updating this fic every monday or tuesday, but I'm still unsure of how many chapters there will be. I'm aiming for this fic to be a bit longer than my last one, so dw dw. Also! The house in question exists in game and can be found nine doors down from Friedlanders house if you wanna check it out.  
> I apologize for the lack of Vanessa/Amanda content in this chapter. I promise to have more in the future <3  
> xoxo,  
> Daaarlings
> 
> EDIT: WHOOPS I UPLOADED THE DRAFT W/O THE ITALICS AND EVERYTHING?? IM SORRY HERE Y'ALL GO IM A MESS


	6. Chapter 6

**1988**

“Trucker” Trevor finally answered.

“Bullshit!”

“No seriously. Truckers make good pay, get to drive across the country…”

“Go days without sleep, make shitty pay, drive high...hey y’know what? that's a little like we’re doin’ now” Michael laughed.

They laid up on the wings of a destroyed crop duster holding each other laughing. Trevor pinched his cheeks, saying “What’d you need more money for, porkie? You gotta be eatin’ good enough when I ain't around to be this fat”

“Yeah yeah, fuck you” Michael groaned, snuggling himself into Trevor’s chest. 

He shut his eyes listening to his lungs, the distant beat of his heart across his chest. He loved how he could feel Trevor’s chest rising and falling with each inhale. His dirty  _ Pixies  _ tank top scratched his cheeks but he didn’t mind. He loved being held like this up against him, when Trevor wasn’t making fun of him and just let him listen.

Trevor meanwhile rested his cheek against Michael’s soft hair. They’d made this old aircraft hangar their safe house for a few days after their last score. Lester was working on laundering the money and it would be in their hands in a few days. After that, Trevor had already planned a nice date for them. There was a five dollar cinema in town and _ “Die Hard”  _ had just come out and it was  _ all  _ Michael talked about.  _ “You and your fucking movies. Is there anything else going on between your ears?”  _ Trevor would sigh anytime Michael’s eyes lit up at the sight of a movie poster.

Trevor tucked his head and kissed the top of Michael’s head, letting his hand wander down his back and into Michael’s jeans. Michael let him and held him tighter, shutting his eyes. “Hey, T?”

“What? I’m cuppin’ a feel and you’re ruinin’ my moment” Trevor growled,

Michael was silent, biting his lower lip and shutting his eyes tighter. Trevor felt him becoming tighter as he laid a hand on his chest. “You think I could make movies someday?”

Trevor smiled, “Why the fuck not?”

Michael forced a laugh, and then was silent again. Trevor ran his fingers through his thick brown hair resting his lips against his scalp.  _ God  _ he smelled so good all the time. Even when they hadn’t been able to shower for days and were living by the grace of god by taking power naps in gas station bathrooms, Michael still smelled divine. It was this weird mix of Redwood cigarette smoke and mint, it reminded Trevor of a forest.  _ Fuck I’m  _ still _ falling hard for this guy, shit, shit, shit.  _ “I don't think I could do it. I can't act for shit, and no one would want me as a director or something like that” Michael finally sighed, “Sides, I’d have to go to Los Santos and give all this up”

A sick smile spread across Trevor’s face, “If you could go to that fake plastic town...would you take me with you?”

“Like I’d go anywhere without your dumbass” Michael chuckled, up turning his head and kissing Trevor. The only thing they’d managed to eat that day was a bag of potato chips and a can of coke. Michael could still taste the salt on the side of his lips. “I ain't leavin’ you anywhere, baby”

“You say that...” Trevor sighed trying to make it seem more like a joke than a serious statement. He didn’t want to get dark and talk about how he already had a plan to kill himself the minute Michael left him. They’d been in love for two years now, twenty three years old and Trevor was like a lovesick puppy. The idea of living without Michael was too much to bare, but he was used to being abandoned. He knew it would happen eventually, but he didn’t want to think about it. “I think you could be one of those assholes in the movies, maybe not an actor...nah, you’re too  _ real  _ for that kind of bullshit. But maybe you could write pictures?”

Michael smiled so big, Trevor felt like he was gonna die. He was too beautiful, too much of everything all at once. Trevor had an overwhelming urge to punch him in his gorgeous face. “You think?” Michael whispered with stars in his eyes.

“Sure, I mean you know more about Vinewood than any nerd I’ve ever known...and we  _ both  _ know Lester the Molester” Trevor smiled, he wanted Michael to feel so happy, he wanted to make him feel so fulfilled. If Michael asked him to give him a lift to Los Santos that night so he could be poor in the city of phonies and fakes just to make movies, Trevor would do it in a heartbeat if he got to stay by his side. “But you gotta start writin’ something. You can't show up empty handed”

Michael let go of Trevor and hopped off the wing of the plane. Trevor looked at a loss as Michael’s warmth left him.  But he quickly took pleasure in watching Michael’s swagger as he strutted over to his backpack in the corner of the hangar. Trevor whistled as he walked, yelling “Shake it, sugar tits!”

“Fuck you, T” Michael yelled back as he dug through his ratty backpack. As Trevor watched him he pushed his hair back, a deep sinking feeling in his chest. Michael was so beautiful, he was such an asshole, but he was  _ Trevor’s.  _ But part of him lived in fear, fear that it was all fake or it was going to end anyday now. Nothing this good ever lasted, not in Trevor’s universe. 

Michael got so uncomfortable with Trevor was affectionate with him in public. He’d laugh nervously and push him away when he wrapped his arm around him, or try to stand a bit farther from him when other people were around. Michael had confided to him again and again that he was so  _ terrified,  _ and he didn’t know how to feel about loving another man. At first Trevor was furious, yelled at him that if he wanted to be ashamed of Trevor then he can just leave right then and there. But over the years Trevor had come to understand and know Michael better than that. His fear of loving men was something deep rooted that Trevor wanted to understand, but he also greatly understood that they were on two different journeys. 

Still he feared the day Michael would find some pretty girl and run away with her. They’d get some white picket house in the suburbs with two kids and a dog. Michael would host barbeque’s every sunday after church and his pretty wife would adore his hypermasculinity. Meanwhile, Trevor would be off dead somewhere, the idea of losing him too much to bare. 

“Found it!” Michael finally called out, holding a small black paperback notebook up in the air. He jogged back over to Trevor and hopped back on the wings, quickly returning to his embrace. The plane’s wing creaked under the additional weight, but still held them up. Trevor squeezed him tight, letting his hand return to the familiar warmth of the back of Michael’s jeans. “I’ve been writing this since I was sixteen. I’m on the second draft now”

Trevor raised a brow, “Since when do you write?”

Michael shrugged, “My uh...sixth grade teacher had me write for detention. She told me to write about my ideal life. Afterwards she just let me write in her class when I didn’t wanna go home. This ain't where this came from, just how it started.”

Trevor smiled, trying to imagine a younger Michael with busted knuckles from making some bitch eat her hair, chewing at his eraser trying to orchestrate a whole word on some scrap paper in the back of his class. “So what’s this then, a script?”

“Yeah” Michael nodded, so proud of himself. He flipped it open, revealing endless pages of hastily written bits of dialogue and notes in a rainbow of pen colors. Along the bottom of some pages were little crudely done drawings, most probably scribbled out by an embarrassed Michael. “You wanna know what it's about?”

“Well don't keep me in suspense, _ Hemingway _ ” Trevor chuckled kissing the side of Michael’s brow.  _ God  _ he loved him so much.

“Alright, so dig it: It's a neo-noir movie--”

“That's detective mystery movies right?”

“Yeah!” Michael beamed, “And it's about this guy: Tony Spades. He’s an ex-cop, y’know tried to do good in the world, but the cops are assholes and he realized that it ain't worth it. So he goes into work for himself, but the whole crime scene has just kind of jaded him. He’s from the wrong side of the tracks, got a bad dad, mom isn’t around, he’s used to fighting to survive”

_ Tony Spades.  _ He tried not to laugh at the name, Michael was too happy about his creation and the last thing Trevor wanted to do was discourage him. Instead he just grinned, “Last part sounds like someone I know”

Michael ignored him, “So this broad comes into his office one day, and she tells him that her twin sister is missing. Immediately he takes the case, it sounds easy enough, a lot of the clues point to her sneaking out to some club without daddy’s permission. So he follows the clues and he’s searching for her but instead of finding her alive and well, he finds her severed finger in the last place the clues point to”

“Hot. You sure Vinewood is gonna let you make something that graphic?”

“It's a finger, not a head” Michael tried to explain

“S’it the middle finger?”

“The audience won't be able to tell, except the die hard fans, but of course it's the middle finger. Anyway, it becomes a murder case and the police are trying to push Tony out but then they find  _ another  _ finger, and they all know it belongs to the same girl. So now Tony is racing against the clock, he doesn’t think she’s dead, but every day goes by is another day she’s closer to death. But he’s goin’ crazy because he’s trying to do this the lawful way, the  _ right  _ way. But he can't do it”

“Is the twist that  _ he  _ was the killer all along?” Trevor guessed,

“Nah, but that's a good idea” Trevor smiled at his approval, “Instead he goes back home to the bad part of the city, finds his old buddy Tyler Wolfe who's a big crime boss now. He asks him to help him solve this case, and they’ll split the pay 50/50 and maybe Wolfe gets to be a big hero”

“Wolfe sounds too cool to wanna play into that hero shit” Trevor snickered. He already knew what angle Michael was playing with him, shitty names didn’t deter the sharp mind of Trevor “Steel” Philips.

“You’d know huh?” Michael snickered with a wink. “Anyway, Wolfe and Spades spend the rest of the movie chasing after the killer, getting close but always a few steps too far behind. Wolfe takes all of the risks that Spades is too concerned to take, but Spades is the guy with the plans. The big finale is at the train tracks where they found the first finger. There’s this long chase scene and there’s gunshots and it’s amazing! Then Spades and Wolfe manage to corner the guy. And you know who the killer was?”

“Spades!”

“No! The girl! The one who hired him in the first place! She wanted Spades to solve the case so that it would look like she was a concerned sister and her rich daddy wouldn’t hold out on making her his sole heiress. The first finger was a mistake from when she was moving the body, the second was just to hype up the case as a murder to make her look more like a victim in the case. But why would she tell them all this? Well, it’s because she knows that she needs Spades to be the one to clear her name, but she needs leverage”

“This girl sounds hot. She got a name or are you just pulling classic hollywood sexism?”

“Her name is Molly”

“That's too sweet of a name. What about Christine?” Trevor offered

“Christine sounds like Christ, what if thats her last name?”

“I’ll take it. How does she get leverage on Spades? Is she gonna frame him for the murder or Wolfe?”

“ _ Worse.  _ She shoots Wolfe and tries to run away, but Spades shoots her in the kneecaps and she falls over. Then Wolfe is bleeding out in Spade’s arms, and Spades, well he’s been a cold-hearted icy son of a bitch the whole movie. But seeing his best buddy like that in his arms? He loses it. It's the emotional climax of the movie and he starts crying. In the distance you can hear the police sirens because Spades told them where he was gonna be. But he’s terrified that it's gonna be too late and he’s gonna lose Wolfe and he’s really fucking losing it man”

“I know the feeling” Trevor trailed off,

“So he says to him,  _ ‘Look Wolfe, I may be a Spades man, but you’ve always been my Ace’  _ and Wolfe just laughs that he’s a real piece of work” Michael said with a smile.

“Mikey, Mikey, Mikey!” Trevor tutted with a smile, “What  _ will  _ Vinewood think of such a relationship between men?”

He was quiet for a while, flipping through the pages as he thought. “I mean, not like  _ that,  _ T. They’re just good friends”

“ _ Just  _ friends, huh?” Trevor said rolling his eyes, but Michael just nuzzled his head into his chest trying to hide his face. “A kiss scene would really drive it home,  _ plus  _ you’ll get a nice following of fans”

“I know, I know...I just dont think that...y’know, Spades likes guys like that” Michael murmured, but Trevor continued.

“I think Wolfe likes Spades”

“I think so too, but...I just, I think that the scene is good on its own” 

_ Whatever helps you sleep at night, Mikey.  _ “Right” Trevor said a little hurt.

“The next scene is where Wolfe is recovered and Molly  _ Christine  _ is being sent to prison. Wolfe and Spades decide to go into work with each other. As Wolfe reads the paper about Molly getting sent to prison, Spades hands him a congratulatory cigar. But just as they lean in to light each other’s, the door swings open. A grieving woman with her face covered and black gloves steps through. She takes off her left glove to reveal  _ two missing fingers.  _ She asks them, ‘Will you help me?’ and the scene cuts to black.”

Trevor was quiet as Michael shut the little notebook, looking up at him with these eyes begging for validation. Trevor hummed, reveling in his anticipation. “ _ Well?  _ What’dya think?” Michael exclaimed,

Trevor sat up on one arm, pushing Michael down against the plane’s wing, snickering “What do I think?  _ What do I think _ ?”

Michael was still smiling. He licked his lips as Trevor towered over him, hand against his chest. He wanted to be against his chest again and hear his lungs, hear his heart, hear what made Trevor Philips live. 

Trevor went in for a kiss, chuckling into Michael’s open lips “ _ I think  _ it’s perfect, cupcake”

Michael pulled him in closer, kissing the sides of his lips. Trevor -- attempting to straddle Michael -- misplaced a palm and went falling off the side of the wing. Michael shot up in a second and jumped to the ground, lifting Trevor up who just kept laughing. “You  _ love  _ me” He cackled, “You  _ wrote  _ about me”

Michael blushed, “Yeah, I did. It was that easy to tell?”

“ _ Tyler  _ Wolfe? Seriously?”

“Hey, fuck you, alright?” Michael laughed, tugging at his tank top. He rested a hand on the side of his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin against his. “I do, y’know”

“ _ Y’know  _ what?” Trevor mimicked as he laced his fingers through his hair. Trevor thought about taking Michael out to get a proper haircut once they got their pay. He knew Michael hated having long hair even if he loved it on Trevor. He wished he could take care of him.

“I  _ do  _ love you” Michael grinned. Trevor licked his lips, a gentle smile appearing on his face before it disappeared. Michael knew he didn’t accept that statement, he’d say thank you and that’d be the end of it. Trevor didn't’ believe anything was built to last, but Michael knew that they would.

He let his ear rest against Trevor’s chest. His heart was beating faster than a hummingbird. He felt the vibrations as he spoke, “I love you too, Mikey”

“I ain't goin’ anywhere” Michael whispered as he felt Trevor kiss the top of his head again. 

“I’ll cut your goddamn nose off if you do” Trevor threatened with a laugh, “You better not make Tyler Wolfe a pussy”

“Trust me, with you as an inspiration, he’s gonna be anything but”

 

**2014**

All Michael could do when he was worried was spin his wedding ring. For years that was his tell, when things were bad and he couldn’t solve a problem with a bullet. When he Amanda told him she was pregnant with Jimmy he spun the ring around his finger thinking. When Dave Norton of the FIB approached him with an offer he couldn’t refuse, he spun it. For anytime his persona as the Los Santos Suburban Dad and Husband was threatened, he could be seen spinning it.

But now it was gone, out of his hands. 

Him and Amanda were officially divorced, two decades of misery were over by the stroke of a cheap ballpoint pen. They stood outside the courthouse, Amanda shutting her eyes and taking a deep inhale of the Los Santos air. Michael leaned up against the railing, staring at his ring. “We should keep those, for the kids” Amanda suggested as she plucked her diamond ring from her finger like it was nothing.

Michael remembered how he went from gas station to gas station robbing for almost two states to save up enough money to buy that ring. He didn’t want to steal a symbol of love, thief or not, Michael thought that’d be too trashy. But it was barely a symbol back then as it was then in the palm of Amanda’s hand. 

“What, so they can continue the vicious cycle of martial unrest?”

“Hey, I plan on being  _ very  _ happy with the next person I marry” Amanda grinned. Michael remembered and smiled back. 

The death of Will Evans had been written off as a suicide, and Vanessa was officially a widower. She’d played the role of the concerned wife perfectly, breaking down sobbing that she couldn’t stand to be in an empty house, that she was so scared of what their son Caleb would do when he found out his father was missing. Neither statements were exactly lies.

The story that her and Michael had concocted wasn’t exactly a lie either, so Vanessa had little room to fib to the police anyhow. Will  _ had  _ been out of town on business, his credit card statement proved that with the purchase of his ticket to Liberty City. He returned to Los Santos but never called Vanessa to let her know that he was coming home, ergo it was believable that he never did come home. 

About two days after the original incident Will was found dead in a seedy motel room, throat slashed, corpse rotting. The motel was of course one of Lester’s various anonymous business dealings, meaning that forging the books to say that Will checked in after coming to LS was a truthful statement. 

Now it was just the waiting game. Vanessa’s son Caleb had come home for the funeral and Amanda now had to keep her distance until the heat died down. After all Will was one of the most prolific lawyers in Blaine County, so no one needed any reason to suspect that the case needed to be reopened because the widower didn’t seem as update as she should be.

All the while, Amanda planned the dream wedding for her and her bride. Michael had been in and out of the house since him and Trevor signed the lease with Janice Wallace at Wallace Real Estate. In all truthfulness, Michael was having trouble with the transition. 

Amanda and Vanessa were so aimlessly in love and so absolutely in tune with one another. Amanda had already created little idea boards of how she would remodel the house once Vanessa moved in, what their wedding would look like, but Michael had trouble even taking off his ring.

“Got a date in mind yet?” Michael asked, as he eyed his ring.  _ God  _ he use to hate wearing it when they first got married. He hated the constant sensation of having something on his finger. Now it felt weird to imagine taking it off, it was so official and all too real for Michael. He was almost sure he was about to wake up from a dream with Amanda beside him in the bed and the night before a fuzzy memory. 

“Not yet. We still have to talk to the kids...you and Trevor haven’t done that yet, have you?”

He frowned, “No. Told Franklin though”

“You know him and Jimmy hang out right?”

Michael rolled his eyes, now he was struggling to wiggle the silver band off his finger. “Yeah, I  _ know  _ Mandy. But I’m not exactly doing too well with this whole thing”

Amanda raised a brow, “ _ what  _ thing?”

This  _ Thing. The “getting divorced after two miserable decades together, the buying a beach house with the guy I use to think was gonna kill me up in North Yankton. The fact that I’m forty eight years old and I’m just now coming out to my entire fucking social group that I’m a bisexual man after repressing it for my entire life” thing.  _ “I’m just...I’m old, Mandy. I’m almost fifty” he sighed, “ _ fuck,  _ can you believe that? Fifty years old in two years. I spent most of that time in the closet, or in denial, or both”

“Yeah well, you and me both” Amanda snorted, “But we got now, don't we? With that shitty kale juice we drink, we should live another fifty years. And maybe this time we won't be so miserable”

He finally got the ring off. It felt so heavy in his hands, and his hand felt so light now. He handed it over to Amanda and took one last look at it in her hand before she pocketed them. “I just...I guess I’m worried, y’know? I mean me and T, we got complicated history. At least you and Vanessa have had smooth sailing”

Amanda wrinkled her brow, crossing her arms. Michael could feel her scowl but didn’t look. He just took out his phone and saw that he had fifteen unread messages from Trevor, all pictures. “What?” he sighed, knowing he had already messed up.

“You and Trevor  _ do  _ have complicated history, but me and Vanessa didn’t exactly have an easy time either” She scoffed, “Do you have any idea what it was like to lie to her for so long? Jesus, I couldnt even keep the lies straight by the end of it! And you know what was horrible, Michael, you know what was the  _ worst  _ part of it all?”

“What?”

“She didn’t care that I lied. She  _ knew  _ I was lying and just had this fucking faith that someday I’d tell her the truth but fuck!” Amanda yelled. She massaged the bridge of her nose, Michael watched her. She’d been more relaxed since they decided to get divorced, but now he saw her getting wound up all over again.  _ I just got this effect on people, don't I? _ “Right before you caught me in bed with...god, what was his name? The tennis instructor?”

“Oh you mean the asshole who indirectly caused me to pull a house off the side of a mountain? Names escape me, sweetheart”

“Well, whatever his name was _ ,  _ before that, we had this whole...falling out. She was so tired, Michael, and I didn’t blame her. But I couldn’t tell her about North Yankton, about me, about you, about anything! I mean she was  _ shaking  _ and sobbing that she was in love with a stranger!” Michael bit his tongue, catching himself before he shot back  _ what like those nine years were so easy for me?  _ He wanted to be better, at least a better friend to Amanda than he was a husband. He could be shitty, but right then he knew he didn’t have a right to interrupt. All Amanda heard for ten years was how depressed Michael was, and once he came out of retirement all she heard about was how much he hated his life. He could stand to hear what Amanda got to live through thanks to him without fighting her for once. “We were apart for a year, all while you were running around with Trevor and getting shot at, I just...wondered what the fuck I was gonna do”

Michael’s lack of interest in his family's life had always been a sort of known fact. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t care, but that he either didn’t have the time or just didn’t see anything. Because of this there would always be these moments where he wasn’t completely  _ sure  _ how he got to where he was. Amanda was telling him that Vanessa left her because Amanda couldn’t tell her the truth, and now they were engaged. Michael bit the inside of his lip, trying to ignore the obvious connection of how trust seemed to be the main thing keeping him and Amanda and their partners at a distance. At least, he  _ hoped  _ that was in the past. “How’d you get back together?”

“I told her the truth, same as you did with Trevor” She shrugged,

He rolled his shoulders, letting out a frustrated sound. “It wasn’t really  _ me  _ telling him the truth, it was him flying up to North Yankton and digging up a grave and then leaving me to get kidnapped by the chinese mob”  _ which by the way, you didn’t fucking take notice when I dropped off the face of the planet? You didn’t even look for me?  _ He decided to keep that last part inside. 

“Yeah well, I didn’t need things to get that bad before I realized I was lonely” She shrugged.  _ Lonely. Baby, I was too, but I had a lot of other reasons to keep our bullshit a secret from Trevor.  _ “I showed up at her house when I knew Will was away. I told her what happened, that I was living with Fabien and you were gone. And she just started crying that she missed me, and…”

Michael turned to see Amanda wiping a tear out of the side of her eye, careful not to smudge her makeup. Michael reached across to awkwardly pat her on the back, not knowing what else to do.  _ Jesus this is awkward,  _ “Michael, did you think that you and Trevor were going to be okay?”

He withdrew his hand, checking his phone again.  _ Sixteen New Messages  _ flashed under the time. He knew that one of them was probably of Trevor’s dick. “Sweetheart, I love you, I was married to you, but if you keep asking me questions like that I’m gonna fucking scream” He said plainly as he stared at his phone.

“I just wanna know, Michael. I mean, when Vanessa held me that night it was like…” she sighed, shutting her eyes and shaking her head, “I knew she was it, y’know? She was my everything and that was it. I’m forty four years old and I’m in love for the first time”

He turned and saw Amanda in her own world thinking about Vanessa. He wondered how many times she caught Michael making that same face while he thought of Trevor.

Michael didn’t want to go into the whole history of him and Trevor with Amanda. He didn’t want to explain that he realized he was in love with the guy when he was twenty one years old and Trevor just snorted hot sauce off a dirty bar table. Or how he was twenty two when he first told Trevor he was writing about him and he still had that fucking screenplay in one of his boxes at his new place. He didn’t want to explain to Amanda that he’d been in love with the guy almost the entire time he’d known him. And that he loved him so  _ fucking  _ much it hurt, but he wasn’t use to having him. He wanted to be affectionate and loving but he was use to loving Trevor in the privacy of a hotel room and not yelling it from the rooftops. 

He withdrew a pack of redwoods and raised a cigarette to his mouth. “You don't gotta worry about me, Mandy. I ain't your husband anymore”

“Its not like that Michael, it's about…” She took a breath, “I’m just so tired of seeing you so fucking miserable. And you’ve been so happy these past few weeks. I don't want you to go back in the closet just because you think it's better for everyone.”

Amanda’s touch had always been so harsh against Michael’s skin in the past. They’d never been physical with each other, but just the sensation of her touching his arm in the past use to make him feel like his life was draining out of him. He was sure that he did the same to her, but now there wasn’t any flinching or wincing. Amanda reached out and hugged Michael tight in her arms, resting her cheek against his shoulder.  _ When was the last time we hugged?  _ She thought,  _ We must’ve been lying to ourselves the last time we hugged.  _

“I love you Michael. You’ll always be my first husband, but you’re such a depressing asshole” She said with this natural sweetness that melted against Michael’s eardrums. He carefully allowed himself to hug her back, but part of him was afraid that if he held her too much she’d shatter like glass. She was being  _ tender  _ and  _ loving  _ and being a  _ friend.  _ “I just want you to be happy”

He smiled, resting his lips against her brown hair. “I think I am happy, for the first time in a long time. But I don't know how to be”

Amanda let him go, patting him on the shoulder. “Good thing you have the rest of your life to figure it out”

As she made her way back to her car she called out, “ _ Call the kids! _ ”

While Michael smoked his cigarette he saw Amanda in this new light through the smoke. It was someone he’d never known, a woman he didn’t think existed. She was vibrant, and loving, and  _ happy _ . He smiled as he watched her drive off.

When his phone buzzed again to alert him of another message he realized he had the day free. Solomon was reviewing the project he’d brought to him a few days ago and gave Michael a few days off in case anything screwy happened with the divorce. He was more or less moved into the new place, save for a dozen boxes needing unpacking he’d probably never get to unless someone forced him to. Tracey was busy studying, Jimmy was looking for a job, Amanda was a free woman. He smiled as he realized for the first time in a long time, that it was a nice day.

He took out his phone and ignored all of the message alerts and just went straight into his contacts. He scrolled to the bottom and clicked on Trevor’s name, his pouting face in the background as his phone read  _ “Connecting”.  _

Michael held the phone to his ear and leaned over the railing. It was just about the afternoon, the sun was still high in the sky and he could hear the ocean in the distance. “If you didn’t want the pictures you shouldn’ta given me your jacket” Said Trevor’s rough voice over the line.

Michael smiled, “I haven’t looked at them yet, maybe thats a good thing. You sending me immoral pictures again, T?”

“ _ Immoral!  _ God that stings!” he hissed,

Michael laughed, shaking his head. He took another drag from his cigarette as quietly as he could, worrying that Trevor would yell at him for smoking again. As he let out a puff of smoke he asked, “Hey you busy today?”

“I’m  _ always  _ busy, Michael. I run a business”

“Yeah but are you  _ free  _ for the afternoon, Mister CEO?” Michael said rolling his eyes, “I was wondering if maybe you’d...I dunno, wanna go out on a date? All of my shit is at the house, maybe we could spend our first night there tonight”

Trevor cackled over the line, Michael could practically see him throwing his head back and grabbing his stomach. “Pick me up in thirty, Porkchop”

“Vanilla Unicorn?”

“Corner of Cortes Street and Bay City Avenue,  _ Most Holy Redeemer Church _ ” He answered, “I’ll be done here in maybe fifteen minutes, just stepped out to take some pictures to send to my uh,  _ boyfriend _ ” 

Michael could see the smirk on his face, and knew that Trevor was going to be mad once he hung up and saw that Michael hadn’t even looked at all of the wonderful pictures he’d sent him. But Michael was more preoccupied with where Trevor was at that moment than the actions he’d take against him for  _ his _ inaction, “Jesus, I mean,  _ Jesus,  _ you religious now, T?”

Trevor let out a laugh, “ _ God  _ no! Fuck that! Fuck priests, fuck the holy book, I mean their fuckin’ wine is just grape juice, fuck no. My meetings are here”

_ Meetings? Oh. _

“Yeah, those meetings” Trevor snorted, “But I should get back out there, gotta tell the group that my  _ squeeze  _ is pickin’ me up for a proper date”

“Do what you gotta do, I’ll be there soon”

“Mikey?”

“What, T?”

“Don't leave me hangin’, alright? I don't wanna look like a chump in front of these guys like the kid whose parents forgot to pick ‘em up from soccer practice--”

“I’m on my way, T”

“--But I mean in this case I’m  _ some bitch you didn’t call for ten years,  _ repressed, hated, tried to have killed, but after  _ all of that  _ we’re back together for the best! And fuck me, Townley, I’d really look like a fuckin’ prick if you left me high and dry wearing a jacket with your name on it.”

“I promise I’ll be there. Just be in front, if I have to go inside a church, I’m leaving you there”

Trevor cackled, “See, I can live with those conditions! Drive safe, cupcake”

 

Trevor was still wearing Michael’s varsity jacket when he pulled up. He was wearing his ratty Del Perro Pier tank top underneath with flecks of blood Michael could see from across the street. His rolled up jeans were covered in mud and the knees worn out, his combat shoes were just as beat up. But Michael smiled all the same when he saw him and his getup as he laid against the sign in front of the church that advertised Holy Redemption.

Trevor didn’t bother waiting for Michael to stop the car before he was already sprinting across the street to meet him. He opened Michael’s door and crawled over him, Michael yelling the whole time to just  _ go around  _ but Trevor just grunted, “Fuck you”

Once Trevor was secured in his seat, Michael reached over putting a hand on the back of Trevor’s neck. Awkwardly he leaned over the divider and gave him a peck on the cheek, something that bewildered Trevor who stared at him wide eyed, licking his lips. 

Trevor grabbed Michael by his suit collar and gave him a kiss on the lips, a satisfied laugh escaping his lips. “Glad you decided to show, cupcake”

“What, like I’m gonna embarrass you in front of your new friends like that?”

“Wouldn’t call ‘em friends, just...associates” Trevor grumbled as he reached in the side door and began going through Michael’s CD’s. “ _ Jesus,  _ the fuck is this?  _ Doris Day?  _ God I know you’re old Mike, but I didn’t know I was banging a geriatric patient”

As Michael turned the corner he grabbed the beat up plastic case from Trevor, “Look you wanna sit there and judge my fuckin’ music, I dunno how this whole thing is gonna work, Trev”

“Y’know you spent  _ ten years  _ apart from me and I think the first thing that went after your spine is your taste in music” Trevor jabbed with a smile, “So, what public display of affection were you planning on today?”

Michael leaned back in his seat, letting out a grunt as his mind went to work. Trevor rolled his eyes,  _ of course  _ he didn’t plan anything. He was  _ Michael Townley,  _ his life was just one impulsive decision after the other. Trevor looked back at the CD’s and found a beat up  _ The Black Doors  _ disc inside a Kenny Loggins album. He smiled as he shoved it in the CD player, smirking “Jesus where would you be without me, M?”

“Where I was before you” He grinned,

“Mm, you miss letting your brain melt in the Los Santos sun listening to  _ Phil Collins  _ and brooding by your pool?”

“Sometimes. I mean I did give up my pool, and well, the sun aint exactly goin’ anywhere” Michael shrugged, “I was fucked without you, man. Really, I was”

“I bet” Trevor half-heartedly hummed. 

“And I  _ do  _ got a plan for today, alright? It's a good one”

“If you take me to watch a fucking movie, Townley, I swear to fucking god I’ll break your fingers, or,  _ someone’s  _ fucking fingers. I’m in a finger-breaking mood today”

Michael grinned, “What, you got something against  _ Nelson in Naples? _ ”

Had Trevor not been strapped into a car seat that immediately locked at his jerking movements, he would’ve probably grabbed the wheel and tried to steer them onto the freeway. Instead he just flailed, hissing at Michael who just laughed. This continued for a solid two minutes before Trevor rather quickly tired himself out and rested back into his seat.  _ Everlasting Light  _ made the car shake with each strum of the bass, Trevor quietly mouthed the words. Michael watched him out of the corner of his eye, eventually reaching out to get a hold of something of his. Trevor grabbed his hand and raised it to his lips, smirking “Dont think I didn’t notice, Cupcake”

“What?”

“Your hands lighter now, the other one” He winked, “Amanda’s finally free of being the wife of a treacherous snake?”

“Yeah, bad news though. Heard Trevor Philips is saddled with her ex husband”

Trevor inhaled sharply, “Poor guy, heard he only got that knife removed from his back recently”

“Yeah well, maybe just  _ maybe  _ he don't gotta be so afraid of getting another one back there. Because Michael De Santa? Changed man”

At this Trevor laughed, “Really? A  _ changed  _ man?”

“Well...maybe a work in progress, but he’s not the guy who left him to rot before”

“For both of their sakes, I sure as shit hope so”

 

As Michael pulled into Pleasure Pier all Trevor could do was give him the stink eye trying to figure out what he was getting at. As they parked Trevor looked out at the small mid day crowd, a mix of washed out locals and tourists mainly. “Aint this a little public for you, sugar tits?”

“What? I can't bring my boyfriend to the pier?” It didn’t sound so alien coming from his mouth anymore. Now it was like sharing a secret, albeit with literally no one. 

“You still haven’t told Tracey and Jimmy” Trevor stated plainly, “ _ And  _ you make movies now, right?”

Michael rolled his shoulders. He’d already had anxiety over this on the way over. But logically, he wanted to believe it’d be okay. Tracey and Jimmy were usually too preoccupied to notice their parents whereabouts unless it ended in gunshots or yelling. And Michael’s only title was Associate Producer, and despite what he wanted to believe, it wasn’t exactly something that got him a whole lot of attention from the public. “It’ll be fine, don't worry about it”

“You’ll have to excuse my anxiety, I’m use to being a source of shame and disappointment”

“Yeah well not today. You ready to fuck shit up?”

“Aint I always?”

As the sea air hit Trevor he wiped his brow. As he began to walk he felt a familiar hand gently embrace his, a head resting on his shoulder. He looked at Michael, saw the bits of grey on the top of his head. “You’re so needy”

“Yeah so sue me”

Truthfully, Trevor and Michael both had no real idea  _ how  _ to have fun within the limits that Pleasure Pier provided. Over the years, Michael had visited the pier to look at the ocean or the women. Sometimes he’d stop by Vespucci Beach to hit the clubs were tourists were in and out and no faces were ever the same. Trevor only knew tying up disrespectful assholes under the pier and drinking a beer as the high tide suffocated them. Maybe if it was a good day he would get high behind the snack bar and get into a fist fight with some hipsters.

So understandably, thirty minutes in, they were pretty tired of what legal fun they could possibly have on Pleasure Pier. They were sitting on a bench eating cotton candy watching the young couples. Both men noticed a couple across the way from them being so obnoxiously loud, they wouldn’t ignore them.

They must’ve been Michael’s kids ages, but were typical Los Santos natives. The girl had her hair bleached and tied up in a tight bun on her head, her shoulders red and peeling from refusing to put sunscreen on. Her boyfriend wore his  _ Los Santos Owns You  _ hat backwards, and a Rider’s jersey that was too big on him. The girl tugged at the boy’s arm while a tired teenager in uniform stood behind the counter. “ _ Baby pleeeeeease, I want that monkey! C’mon, baby! _ ” she cried,

The boy hissed, scratching his chin. “What’do I get if I win it?”

Michael and Trevor both exchanged glances, Michael gesturing in the kids general direction. 

“What’d you mean what do you get? I’m your girlfriend, and you’re  _ always  _ talking about how  _ ‘hood’  _ you are because you and your friends hang out in Strawberry” She said with her arms crossed.

Trevor discarded his cotton candy and began strutting over with Michael following closeby. The uniformed teen looked up from their phone to acknowledge them by stating, “$5 to play”

Michael wrapped his arm around Trevor’s waist as Trevor eyed the ridiculous orangutan stuffed doll suspended from the ceiling. “ _ Oh baby, _ you know I always wanted a smelly fucking monkey...besides you, of course” Trevor cooed wrapping an arm around Michael.

Michael followed his lead, scratching his chin just as the boyfriend had done before. The other couple was staring at the two of them now, eyes narrowed. “Gee, what’do I get if I win it?”

Without a beat, Trevor spat out “I’ll suck you off”

The girl scoffed, breathing  _ “oh my god _ ”

“Hey, do you guys mind? Me and my girl are talking here” The boyfriend tried with his chest puffed, but Trevor and Michael were already holding onto each other laughing at him.

“Its two player, right kid?” Michael chuckled taking out a five dollar bill, “Lets see who's a better shot, huh?”

The girl squeezed her boyfriend’s arm, trying to avoid Michael and Trevor’s gaze “Baby, it's fine. Lets just go”

“No, no, alright. These old  _ fucks  _ want a game? I’ll give ‘em a game”

“Its five dollars” the teen droned again in the direction of the boyfriend as she handed Michael his plastic gun. At that point Michael realized he actually had no clue what this game even was, but he was getting a kick out of bullying these kids. 

“Old huh? You gonna show me just how ‘ _ Hood’  _ you are with those Ponsonby’s sunglasses?” Michael snorted, “C’mon kid, that fuckin’ monkey was my boy’s from the start”

Trevor grinned wildly, not breaking eye contact with the girlfriend. He grabbed Michael’s hips and pulled him in against his. “Bet my man’s more man than yours, sweetheart” he challenged her,

“I…” she trailed off, 

“Hey! Don't you fuckin’ talk to her!” The boyfriend yelled as he handed over his five dollars.

Trevor growled playfully, resting his lips against the back of Michael’s head as he checked his new play artillery. It was just a fake gun attacked to the booth by a rope and painted blue. The boyfriend glared at the two of them, but they were in their own two worlds. The girlfriend bit her lip, looking away. “I like your dress” Trevor snuck in before the teenager announced that a game was starting.

“The game is Elk Hunting. There’s little elks that run across the screen like this” She explained as she powered up an example. A small weathered painted Elk moved across the area in the distance with a whirling sound. The boy jumped as it began to move across the scene and shot off his gun, a weak green gummy bullet splattering against the forest backdrop. The teen gave him a dirty look for firing off his gun early. “You each have twenty gummy bullets. One is blue, one is green, you can tell whose is whose because your guns match the bullets. Each Elk is worth 100 points, whoever gets the most points wins”

“How many for the stuffed monkey” Michael asked,

“1500 points” she answered,

“Baby, c’mon it's alright” The girl whispered to her boyfriend, but even Michael and his deaf ears could pick up on her words. “These guys are giving me the creeps”

“Yeah because they  _ are  _ creeps, baby. And I’m gonna put ‘em in their fucking place” He spat

Michael laughed, nuzzling his shoulders into Trevor’s chest. “You ready for this,  _ creep _ ?”

“Mmm, whats middle aged romance for?”

“Ready...set…” The teen started as she slowly placed a hand on the controls, “Shoot!”

An upbeat country song played as the game began. Before the first elk’s front legs were even out from behind the little fake bush, Michael had already shot its head. From the other end he shot the legs of another one, and another, and another. With each hit, Trevor squeezed Michael more or moved his body in another way. Michael just took it as another challenge, but that  _ fucking  _ monkey was as good as his.

Meanwhile the boyfriend struggled to get even one shot in. His gummy bullets splattered against the fake backdrop and with each failure he spat  _ “Shit! _ ”. His girlfriend attempted to hold him or reach out, but her touch was just met with him batting her hands away. Trevor would occasionally glance at their entire disaster and chuckled to himself happily.

As the song sped up, so did the elks. The teen yawned as she adjusted the speed, and reminded the couples “This game is non-refundable”

“Whatever!” The boyfriend yelled as he fumed,

In the final ten second round, Michael barely had any trouble hitting the fastest moving targets. The entire game was infantile to him, the only actual challenge he had was trying to keep Trevor out of his line of sight. His only misfire was on the final elk when Trevor groped Michael’s chest and thrusted against him. He let out a frustrated noise as the gummy bullet splattered against the backdrop, but in the sea of lime green jelly from the other contestant, it wasn’t so bad.

“And, that's the game” The teen said as she put on a pair of oversized gloves. She moved all of the elks out from behind the backdrop and counted the gummies. The boyfriend fumed as he threw his gun down on the table, his girlfriend clinging to his arm like a lifeline.

“Blue Gun won with a score of 1,900 and Green Gun loses with a score of 500” The teen announced dumping the goop of colors into a bucket on the floor. As she took off her gloves she continued, “But both of you win a prize, but Blue Gun you can pick from the big toys up on the ceiling”

Trevor bit his ear as Michael requested the oversized orangatang. The teenager nodded, got a step stool out from behind her station and began climbing to retrieve their award. 

The boyfriend snapped at Michael and Trevor, “you two creeps shouldn’t even be out here”

“ _ Excuse me? _ ” Trevor scoffed, letting go of Michael now. Michael sighed, holding out his hand for the monkey. The teenager handed it over but even she was watching them now. “You wanna fuckin’ clarify that statement?”

“Dudes like you, you know its Los Santos but that kind of shit is what’s polluting the city” The boyfriend continued with a chest puffed up,

His girlfriend began trying desperately to pull him away, whispering “ _ Jeremy, it's not worth it, leave them alone _ ”

Trevor licked the inside of his lips, the back of his skull burning. His muscles were tightening as he looked the guy up and down.  _ I could break his fucking arms right here, right in front of his girl.  _ A million different ways to put this guy in place raced through Trevor’s mind, but none involved Michael stepping in front of him and handing him his stuffed monkey. Michael gave him a kiss on the lips and smiled with a quiet storm behind his eyes. Trevor took a deep breath as he took in the scene, and a few steps back. 

Michael put his hands in his pockets and made his way towards the kid who stood his ground. He was so sweet, pure sunshine and rainbows when he said, “You two serious?”

“The fuck do you care?” The boyfriend spat,

He leaned over a little, smiling at the girlfriend. “Gorgeous, are things serious between you and this big lug?”

She nervously nodded, breathing “Y-Yes”

“That's good. Real good” Michael laughed, “My buddy and me have been real serious a long time, y’know? But it took us a long while to get where we are today”

Michael reached out and put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Before the boy could even swat him away, Michael was pressing hard into the side of his neck with his thumb. The boy let out a pained cry as he fell to his knees, Michael’s eyes not leaving him. “And trust me kid, the therapy it took for me to get where I am right now? You dont wanna fuckin’ test me”

The girlfriend helplessly watched, looking feveriously into the midday crowd for a witness. But no one was around, just the teenager whose eyes lit up at the first sign of action all day. “Now, you gonna apologize to my  _ boyfriend _ , or are we gonna have a fuckin’ problem?”

The boy let out a pained sound as Michael increased the pressure. He weakly cried out, “I’m sorry”

Michael pulled the kid up by his hair and held him in the general direction of Trevor who was smiling from ear to ear as he held his stuffed orangutan against his body “I’m deaf in my right ear, kid. You gotta speak up” Michael said, once again, sweet as pie.

“I’m sorry!” The kid cried,

Michael looked at Trevor, “What’dya say, T?”

“I think we should take a finger”

The teen let out a squeal of delight, making both couples look in her general direction as she smiled a big toothy grin. 

“Please don't take his fucking finger!” The girl cried, “He’s a fucking idiot, just let him go!”

“Yeah man, please don't take any of my fingers” The kid sobbed now,

Michael didn’t hear either of them, he was waiting for Trevor. Trevor hugged at his prize, sighing, “You ain't gonna take a finger, are you, Mikey?”

“If you want me to” Michael smiled,

Trevor thought on it a minute. Cannibalism and bloodlust aside, he just wanted to know if Michael had the balls to do that in broad daylight. He looked back at the girlfriend who was white as a ghost watching the scene and sighed. He took a few steps over and reached into the boy’s pocket, taking out his ID. “We know where you live now, sweetheart. So you better fuckin’ fix your warped ideologies, you got me?” Trevor spat with an accusatory finger,

“I got it! I got it!” The boy cried,

Trevor took satisfaction in watching the boy wiggle about. With a weak gesture he sighed as he gave the wallet back over to the boy, keeping the ID for himself. “Let ‘em go, M” As soon as Michael let go, the boy ran to his girlfriend and ducked his head into her abdomen. She wrapped her arms around him and they went running off. Trevor wrapped an arm around Michael and kissed his forehead, “That was beautiful, sugar tits”

“Felt good to do that” Michael admitted, “My shrink would be so mad”

“Didn’t you break his ribs?” Trevor asked with an eyebrow raised, 

“Yeah, I did” Michael grinned.

The teenager ran out from behind the counter and came around to Michael and Trevor. With a wide smile on her face, she gave them a scrap of paper. “That was totally metal! Like in the movies!” She enthused, “I don't like, run with old guys or anything...but you guys seem like you won't like, sell me into slavery. If you guys ever wanna come play one of my booths again, I can rig the games”

Michael chuckled taking the scrap of paper in his hands. He knew it would end up forgotten in his jean pocket and the numbers would be washed away with his laundry. “Thanks kid, now you gonna keep your fuckin’ mouth shut?”

“ _ I didn’t see nothin’ _ ” The girl smiled with a faux mobster accent.

Trevor groaned, already seeing where the conversation was going. He began to pull Michael away hoping to god he could stop him before he started quoting old movies with the kid. 

Michael chuckled as Trevor dragged him along. They looked towards the parking lot and saw the couple running towards their car, making both of them laugh. “How’s the monkey?” Michael asked,

Trevor took a deep inhale of top of the Monkey’s head, breathing “Smells like cheap plastic, very Los Santos”

Michael put a hand to the orangutang's shining beaded eyeball. He sighed, remembering poor Mister Raspberry Jam, eternally apart of Trevor’s truck. He felt like he should say sorry to the poor stuffed animal for the life it was going to have, but Trevor would’ve probably hauled off and punched his teeth in. 

“Y’know, you actually surprised me back there, Sugar Tits”

“Did I?”

“I’m use to being the one turned loose to deal with those kinds of guys, but you? Could’ve sworn I was watchin’ a stranger back there teaching that kid some manners”

“What? I use to teach kids manners” Michael rebuffed,

Trevor gave a disagreeing grunt, “Did you? Because I remember  _ you _ being the one to pull me off the guy who yelled  _ Homo’s  _ in our general direction. Hell, I was the one taking most of the punches anytime someone had a problem with us”

Michael looked away, taking a deep breath. He reached for his cigarettes but just ended up balling up his fist against his chest.

Trevor wasn’t  _ wrong.  _ Michael was sure he’d at least intimidated at least one person back in the old days who tried to pull that kind of game with the two of them. But any memory of that didn’t exist, only Trevor springing into action and Michael running after him. Or Michael carrying him back to the motel to address his wounds after being cornered by a group of asshole’s who’d followed them after they were seen doing something such as hugging on the street corner. 

Hell, Michael didn’t even put a label on himself in the old days. Everything was all new to him then and now, and he  _ wanted  _ to be better. And in that moment when he saw history about to repeat himself, he decided to step in the fire. Yeah, the kid wasn’t armed like people use to be when they’d single the two of them out. And Michael did have age and experience over him, but it had to be a start. He knew that if he didn’t do something then, then he would’ve just gone back to passively letting Trevor handle these situations again. And he didn’t  _ want  _ him to be alone in that again.

“Well now anyone’s got a problem, I’ll teach them some decent coping skills” Michael grinned, leaning in close for a kiss. He was stopped by the monkey’s absurdly large stomach creating a buffer between them. 

Trevor chuckled, grabbing Michael by the back of his neck and leaning in to kiss him back. As they kissed both men blocked out the sound of the screaming from the roller coaster above them. But when they both heard the splat of vomit hitting the ground beside them, they both jumped up and began walking away. “Hey Mikey” Trevor cooed,

“What?”

“Y’know I said I’d suck you off if you won this, right?” Trevor smirked gesturing the stuffed monkey, 

Michael scratched his chin, giving Trevor a toothy grin. “T, you ain't gonna break my heart are you?”

“Me? Fuck no. I’ve seen how you eat man, your diet is gonna be the one that breaks your damn heart. No! I just thought you should know…” Trevor tongued his cheek, scratching the back of his head. “We ain't got any condoms at home yet huh?”

Michael laughed letting his hand slip into Trevor’s. “Lets go ride the fuckin’ ferris wheel, acid cock”

“Whatever you say, Sugar Tits”

 

They got back to their beach house just as the sun was setting. Michael flipped the lights on as Trevor threw himself onto the couch still gripping his orangutan that was now covered in bits of cotton candy and lint. Michael ducked into the kitchen which was almost completely empty save for a few food items and a six pack of beer Michael picked up when he moved all of his boxes in.  _ Boxes,  _ that was most of the house. There were more boxes in each room than there was furniture. In the living room all they had was Michael’s couch from home and a flat screen he’d bought for himself.  _ Projectors are shit anyway. They don't make'em like they use to,  _ he thought to himself.

“Christ, we gotta go fuckin’ grocery shopping” Michael breathed as he grabbed two beers, 

“ _ We  _ gotta get furniture, do we even have a bed yet?” Trevor grumbled,

Michael chuckled as he handed a beer to Trevor, “I got us a mattress, no bed frame yet. I thought that kinda shit was beneath you, T”

“Look I don't give a  _ fuck  _ what kind of coffee tables we have or  _ potpourri  _ we got in the shitter _.  _ but a man needs a bed and we’re two grown ass men so we need a fuckin’ bed” He explained,

“Oh so you don't care how I decorate the place? Interesting” Michael snickered as he took a seat beside Trevor. Trevor wrapped an arm around his shoulder as he lay on him raising his beer to his lips. “So”

“So?”

“How’s recovery?” Michael asked

“S’fine” Trevor answered shortly as he took a sip of his beer.

“We ain't really talked about it much” Michael continued, “You can talk to me about it, T”

“ _ Gee thanks Mikey _ ” Trevor whined as he ran his fingers through his hair, “You got grey hairs, you’re gettin’ old Townley”

“Yeah, so are you. What's your groups like?”

Trevor sighed, “Bunch of old people, boring. Someone talks at the beginning, then we talk as a group about ourselves”

“Hm, so at what point did you sneak away to take those pictures you sent me?” Michael grinned,

“ _ Weeell _ , I’m never big on the  _ group  _ groups. I don't wanna talk to those guys, I don't think they’d get it, y’know?” 

Michael nodded, “Hard to explain the shit you’ve been through”

“You’re tellin’ me, brother” he took a long breath, “I felt like a fuckin’ monster or something for the longest time up in the treatment center. I got a good shrink, but…I don't know how to talk to people who weren’t apart of  _ that _ life. At least if you’re in it, or you were, you had to be fucked up in some way to begin with”

“Didn’t Brad have an okay childhood?” Michael asked,

“ _ Brad  _ ended up dead in  _ your  _ place, he wasn’t exactly successful.” Trevor made a frustrated noise, resting his cheek on Michael’s head. “I don't believe in self pity, M”

“I know you don't”

“But I was fucked so long ago, man. I didn’t have a chance”

“We did what we had to do to survive, even as kids” Michael said. He knew better than to point out a specific incident, but any story Trevor told about his childhood was another tale of child abuse. Michael and Trevor use to share childhood stories as if they were old war veterans.  _ My dad use to have Ryan beat the shit out of me when the cable was out,  _ Trevor would say.  _ My dad once broke my fingers when I told him I lost a fight,  _ Michael would sigh. “But no, we didn’t really have a chance”

“Yeah but these guys? Pfft...I been goin’ to different ones across Los Santos trying to find the right fit. But this one group out in the Rockford Hills? Guy comes out to tell his success story, that he had a happy childhood, his parents  _ loved  _ him, he had a happy fuckin’ marriage and his wife spat out a few kids. He tells us he started doing coke because he was bored, because his life was  _ boring _ ” Trevor growled, “ _ Boring.  _ I wish, I fucking wish! I started shooting up at fifteen,  _ fifteen!  _ I wasn't bored, I was fucking miserable, I didn’t even choose to do it. One of my mom’s disaster boyfriends pinned me to the fucking ground and stuck a needle in my arm and that was it. I was fucking doomed”

Trevor swallowed hard, chest rising and falling. He wiped his eyes as he let out a long breath. Michael rose, putting his hands on the side of his face. Trevor moved his hands and saw Michael staring right through him with those eyes. He let himself shed a single tear before he wiped it away in frustration. Michael leaned in and kissed his lips, tasting the salt of the sea and the sweetness of the cotton candy left on his lips. It was too soft for both of them, but exactly what they needed. 

Trevor craned his neck, shutting his eyes and putting both hands on the sides of Michael’s jaw. As he withdrew he rested his forehead against his, eyes shut. Michael whispered, “I get you, T. I’m here”

“I wish I broke that kids fucking fingers or bit them off” Trevor growled, eyes still shut.

“Yeah, well...I can't help you with that now, but I do got a present for you” Michael said with his voice becoming strangely chipper. Trevor opened his eyes and saw him smiling too softly for his comfort.  _ This is way too domestic, Mikey.  _

“I know I said I’d suck you off, but I’m kind of emotionally raw right now, M” he said as he scratched the back of his head, “I mean I’ll _do it_ but my heart won't be in it” 

Michael withdrew, making his way towards one of the open boxes in the hallway. “It ain't that, but I guess it's kind of like that.”

Trevor took a heavy inhale as Michael made his way back with a paper bound book in hand. As he sat back on the couch, Trevor immediately wrapped his arms around him again and read the title.  _ Ace of Spades, A Screenplay by Michael De Santa. _

“Remember that script I told you about when we were kids?” Michael asked,

Trevor narrowed his eyes, turning his head. “What? You mean that fucking story you would write and then we’d have to drive two hours back state because you left a copy in the motel bathroom? Yeah, I remember”

“Well, Solomon says he’s gonna stick around for one last movie,  _ this  _ movie” Michael explained with a smile, but Trevor just pursed his lips. “This is gonna be a movie, T”

“That's great, Mikey” Trevor said taking the script in his hands. He flipped through the pages of official looking dialogue, hastily taken notes in the margins in someone else's handwriting. “I’m happy for you”

“I added the kiss scene”

That got Trevor's attention. He shut the book and stared at Michael, all he could say was “What?”

“Between Spades and Wolfe. I remember you always sayin’...well, there was something there. And there was no reason to rob the audience of that scene, y’know?”

“You let them kiss?” Trevor questioned with a laugh as he moved in to kiss the sides of Michael’s brow, “Mikey, Mikey,  _ Mikey,  _ what  _ will  _ Vinewood think of such a scene?”

“They can shove it” Michael smirked, “Solomon already read it, and signed off on it. We just need one last okay to start the process”

“Hmm, who's the smuck? You?”

“No, bro, it's you” Michael grinned. Trevor removed his arm from Michael and slouched as he flipped through the pages. The last page read  _ ‘For Trevor’.  _ His heart sank. He looked at Michael and his slightly sunburned cheeks and deep set wrinkles.  _ How’d we get so old but stay the same? _ “Read through it, tell me what you think, what you want changed. And then it's on”

Trevor chuckled as he leaned in to kiss Michael again. This time he grabbed Michael’s buttoned shirt and began undressing him. Michael chuckled at his enthusiasm and began to work at Trevor’s belt. Just then Trevor pulled away, “I will read your self indulgent neo-noir fantasy script,  _ but,  _ you have to let our new friend watch me and you”

Michael laid back on the couch, sighing as he looked at the orangutan on the floor. Its fake plastic eyes daring him, whispering  _ what’re you gonna do about it?  _  “You fuckin’ serious?”

“I promised him, Michael. It was a  _ pinky promise.  _ Now I know, promises don't really  _ mean  _ anything to  _ you,  _ but me and Mister Apricot Jam? Its  _ sacred. _ ”

“Apricot Jam, huh? When do I get an affectionate nickname, huh?”

Trevor crawled ontop of Michael, parting his shirt and resting his lips against his pecs. He turned upwards to answer back“The fuck are you even talking about? You got sugar tits, sugar tits”

Michael kissed his forehead before he traveled farther down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!  
> First off, big thanks to Buscemies for beta reading a segment of this chapter and giving tons of helpful feedback!  
> Thank you to everyone leaving comments and kudos. I've just accepted that I have no idea where this fic is going or when its going to end, so thank you for sticking around for the ride. I hope y'all enjoy this chapter, thank you so much for your continued support <33  
> xoxo  
> daaarlings


	7. Chapter 7

**2005**

He wasn’t sure how long he was standing outside, just that it was long enough for the rain to completely soak through his clothes. He was standing outside Friedlander’s office drunk, on his second pack of Redwoods, and considering bailing on therapy. But Amanda threw him out of the house and yelled that she wasn’t going to unlock the door until Friedlander called to tell her that he went to his session.

It was all bullshit anyway, he didn’t do anything wrong. Well, nothing  _ horribly  _ wrong. 

It was January 10th, and one year ago Michael and his whole family moved to Los Santos and escaped the bitter white snow of North Yankton. But it wasn’t just that, it was Michael Townley becoming Michael De Santa, it was Amanda never being able to talk to her family again, it was Tracey and Jimmy trying to adjust to staying in a place longer than six months. Everyone had their fair share of growing pains, and everyone was usually at each other’s necks.

But that morning Michael woke up and he felt like someone dropped a ton of lead on his chest. He stared in the mirror for a long time, the sun had barely risen, it’d been raining all night.  _ Of course it rains on the anniversary,  _ he thought to himself. Although, he half expected snow.

He didn’t have any plans for that day, there was no reason to. It wasn’t a cause for celebration, and he didn’t want to think about it being a time to feel more remorse than he already did on a daily basis.

But by seven o’clock he was deep in his cups, and sobbing at the kitchen counter. Amanda came downstairs to make the kids breakfast when she found her husband in this moment of fragility she’d never seen. Michael had maybe cried three times in their whole marriage, when Tracey and Jimmy were born, and when he cut Trevor off the months leading up to Ludernoff. Michael use to always be so explosive and wild, she could never keep up with his moods. But since they moved to Los Santos all he was was gloomy and sat in his frustration along with half a bottle of scotch before noon. 

He didn’t notice her at first, so she took advantage of that moment to be soft with him. Before she put her hands on him she whispered,  _ “Shhh, it's alright baby _ ” and shut her eyes. Her hands went around him so tenderly and so gentle, she even rested her cheek on his back. But the next thing she knew he was flying out his chair, screaming not to touch him, not to look at him. 

“The fuck is your problem?!” Amanda yelled,

“I’m the fucking problem! I’m the fucking problem, Amanda!” 

She didn’t have time to bicker with him, she got out the waffle mix from the cupboard and ignored him. But he just started crying again, this time he leaned up against the wall with his hands covering his face. 

“Are you gonna be this uptight all day, or should I take the kids out until you can calm the fuck down?” She sighed. 

“I’m fine” it was such a horrible lie that Amanda snickered, shaking her head.

“Of course, darling. I’m sure you are”

He bit his lip and looked at her. Amanda, his wife of how many years now? He didn’t even remember. He forgot their anniversary last year and she nearly walked out on him, and he still wasn’t sure what the date was. But he saw her, her eyes still puffy from sleeping, her movements groggy. She started making the kids breakfast on Monday mornings to get them out of bed quicker since Tracey had a penchant for trying to sleep in instead of being ready to go at 8:30am every morning. Amanda was no cook, she could burn water if she really wanted to. But she wanted to do something nice for her kids.  _ Nice for the kids,  _ all she did for the kids. Michael felt so hollow inside, he tried to remember when was the last time Jimmy told him about his video games. He wasn’t even sure what Tracey’s afterschool activity was that winter. 

“I should just fucking die” Michael sighed, “I’m a fucking disaster”

Amanda rubbed her temples, “Michael I don't have time for this, it's too early in the morning”

“I should’ve died in Ludernoff. You know it, and I know it”

Amanda didn’t look at him, she didn’t care. She was tired, she just woke up maybe ten minutes prior and would have to take the kids to school in an hour. She didn’t have time to baby her husband, she barely had time to baby her kids. 

“No response?” Michael asked

“ _ I don't have time for this _ ” Amanda repeated,

_ Why can't I be a good husband, what the fuck is wrong with me?  _ “Can I help?” he offered,

She looked at him now, up and down. “You’re drunk, Michael”

“What, I can't help if I’m drunk?”

“If I want you catching the house on fire I’ll let you know” She sighed, “It's fine, just, go lay down” 

He felt like such an asshole all the time, Amanda usually made him feel worse. When they weren’t arguing he felt like he was some annoying younger child of her’s.  _ Just go lay down,  _ she says,  _ I don't want to have to take care of my adult husband as if he’s a child. _

“You know what? Fuck you” He felt the words coming out of his mouth before he could even process them. He only realized he’d spoken when Amanda’s eyes grew big as saucers and her shoulders tightened. 

“Fuck you” She said back, but there wasn’t any anger. It was just hurt, it was tiredness, it was defeat. Her voice cracked under the weight of her words, her breath staggered as if she’d been hit. “Fuck you, Michael. I don't know why I even try with you”

“Try with me?” Michael laughed, “You don't try, neither of us do! Just tell me you hate me, at least then I’ll have something to tell my shrink”

She scoffed, “Oh like you don't have enough to tell him?”

“The fuck is that suppose to mean?”

She rested her palm against the counter, hand on her hip. She took a breath, waiting for Michael to answer the question for himself. But he wasn’t going to, he was trying to kill her with the coldness of his eyes but Amanda was fire when Michael was snow. “It's the anniversary isn’t it?”

“You shut your _ fucking  _ mouth” Michael warned, “I’ll fucking put you out to the pasture with the rest of them if you don't shut the fuck up”

“If you do I hope I find Trevor there” 

For all they abused one another, they’d never put their hands on one another. They’d been smacked around too much in their lives already to smack each other around. But because of this both of them knew how to throw words like punches. But mention of Trevor was the same as Amanda pulling a knife on Michael.

“You know for someone who holds themselves up to the standard of the all American housewife, you’re a real bitch”

Her muscles spasmed, her tips tightening as she tried to process. “ _ Excuse me _ ?”

“You heard me”

“Get the fuck out”

“Of my house?” He laughed, “Hilarious, honey, really. You should become a comedian”

“Get the fuck out!” Her face was red, tears were spilling out of her eyes. She wiped her tears back with her sleeve, whispering harshly to herself  _ “Don't you cry, don't you cry in front of him _ ”

“You think this day is easy for me?” Michael spat

“You think it's any easier for me!?” Amanda cried. She was shaking, her expression fluctuated from true rage to absolute hurt. “I lost everyone! I didn’t have a fucking choice if I wanted to follow you or not! I never did!”

“Oh  _ boo hoo  _ you got a fucking mansion out of this! Cry me a fucking river, babe”

“Fuck you! I can't even talk to you, and you know what? I don't fucking want to!” She left the kitchen to go to the closet in the hallway. She grabbed Michael’s jacket and his shoes and threw them at him. “Go to your shrink, or don't come back here”

“You can't tell me what to do, darling” He grinned, “You can't punish me anymore than I punish myself”

“I said  _ go _ ”

The next thing Michael knew he was at Friedlander’s front door staring out at the stormy ocean waves crashing to the beach. He lamented to himself how grey they were, and how the radiation is killing everyone but him. 

“Michael, what are you doing out here? Why didn’t you ring the bell?” Friedlander’s voice was like nails against Michael’s eardrums, worse than Amanda, worse than the kids.

“Fuck if I know” Michael answered as he threw his cigarette to the ground. It was soaked through anyway, he was just sucking in wet tobacco scented air. 

Friedlander ushered him inside but lead him to the living room.  _ “ _ No offense, but I would like to keep most of my house relatively dry” Friedlander said as he walked Michael in. But he was too out of it to give a shit what he said, he only came to him because Amanda told him to. All that he did was because someone told him too, Amanda, the feds, it didn’t matter. Any degree of control he thought he had over his life he’d expected was an illusion.

He sat down on the chic modernist sofa while Friedlander grabbed himself a cup of tea from his kitchen. “I was surprised to hear from your wife that you needed an emergency session. I thought you were doing well?”

_ Well? The last time you saw me I was screaming about how I didn’t know if I wanted to die or everyone around me to drop dead.  _ “I called Amanda a bitch”

“You did? What provoked that?” Friedlander asked as he sat down across from Michael on an identical loveseat. There was a stain on the left cushion, Michael thought about how Friedlander probably frantically tried to erase it from memory but couldn’t get it all the way out. He probably forgot about it, didn’t realize it was there. But Michael focused his eyes on that stain, refusing to raise his gaze. 

“Fuck if I know”

“ _ Michael _ ” Friedlander tutted, “This is a safe space”

_ Safe space, yeah, a thousand bucks to bear my sins but to just go home and feel like shit about it anyway.  _ “She said his name. She... _ fuck _ …Did I ever tell you about...about… _ fuck _ ” He rested his head on the palm of his hand. He could feel the steam coming from his jacket as the rain dried against his skin. He wished he was cold blooded, he wanted to feel cold as ice like the snow out in North Yankton. 

“Trevor?”

He nodded. He had a rock stuck in his throat that kept him from saying his name. He had to say it, but he felt like he’d vomit if he did. He hadn’t said his name in a year, he didn’t even say it to the kids. It was Uncle T or T, never Trevor, never from his lips. “It's been a year since Ludernoff, and I don't know what the fuck i’m doing here, doc”

“In my office, or in life?”

“Fuck...both” Michael laughed shaking his head. He was gonna explode, he felt like there was a burning ball of energy in his skull that was pushing out his hairs from the follicle, his eyes from his sockets. “I thought i’d be happier here, but I’ve never been so fucking miserable”

“I’m sorry Michael. Why do you think you’re so sad?”

_ Why?  _ Wasn’t that the million dollar question. Didn’t he walk away with the plea deal of the century? He got a mansion out of the deal, all he had to do was ignore the ghosts that haunted him and the memories that intended on choking the life out of him at every turn. 

“Fuck if I know! Isn’t that why I pay you so much fuckin’ money?” Michael yelled,

“I can't tell you why you feel how you feel, only you can answer that for yourself” Friedlander said, with all of his high and mighty knowledge, his  _ fucking  _ PH.D hovering above his head like a god damn halo. “Why did her mentioning Trevor make you so angry?”

“Because...fuck!” He could taste the words in his mouth, but he was struggling to get them out. He squeezed at the bridge of his nose so tight he hoped he fucking broke it. But of course he was too weak to even do that. “Doc, you’ve been seeing me a year, you think I’m doomed?”

Friedlander settled into the cushions of his couch, raising his teacup to his lips. He quietly contemplated to himself, the rain crashing against his glass door was the only other sound in the room. “I think you’re a very sick individual, but I wouldn’t say  _ doomed _ . You just need proper therapy and medication”

“Yeah well, none of that has really done me any favors so far if you don't mind me sayin’, doc” He sighed. This wasn’t working, talking wasn’t helping. Hell he couldn’t even talk about Ludernoff, but he still felt like he was still there. When he laid in his bed at night he could feel the bullet David shot at his chest hit his bulletproof vest, the feeling as his head hit the gravel of the road. He felt the snow melting under his shaved head, the taste of the blood in his mouth from his bleeding nose. He could hear Trevor,  _ fucking  _ Trevor who couldn’t just get shot in front of him so he knew he was gone. 

_ “I ain't gonna leave you Mikey!!” _

Everything hurt too much, it was like he had a been in an explosion and nothing healed right. He felt the welt in his throat melting as the words came flying from his mouth along with the tears that fell from his cheeks, “Doc,  _ I loved him _ ” 

Friedlander sighed, “You’ve told me that you two were very close. It's not easy to lose a friend”

“It wasn’t like that doc...I mean he was my friend, but...thats an understatement” He wiped his tears with a fist. he wished his wedding ring would cut his eyes out. “I loved him, more than anyone I’ve ever known. I didn’t think I knew what love was until I found him, y’know? He made me feel alive, real,  _ raw.  _ And now he’s gone and fuck if I know if I can go on. I let him die, I let the only person on this entire fucking planet who loved me die. I sent him there, doc, I sent him to his grave”

Friedlander sat quietly nodding his head slowly. Michael stared at him with burning eyes, his tears felt like acid against his cheeks.  _ Why are you crying? You’re the fucking murderer, you don't get to feel sorry for this. You chose this.  _ “Well? Are you gonna say something?!” Michael screamed,

“Michael, we’ve talked about many things this past year. But most of all you talk to me about wanting to be a good father, a good husband” Friedlander started, “Do you think you could’ve been those things with Trevor about?”

He bit his lip. The obvious answer was  _ yes,  _ hell, Trevor was basically the kids second father. And Michael spent a good chunk of the kid’s childhood having an affair with him anyhow, but that didn’t help his case as trying to be a good husband he supposed. “He was a good guy. He was wild, he was fucking insane, but he was good, doc. I think he was a better person than I was”

“Michael, listen to yourself!” Friedlander exclaimed. He rested his teacup against his coffee table so that he could adjust himself into his usual open but professional pose. “You’ve told me about Trevor. How he could kill indiscriminately, used hard drugs, purposely did things to hurt you!”

“I wasn’t much different, doc. I just got a family, that's all”

“And that's the point Michael! Don't you see? Had Trevor never come into your life, all of the horrible things you’d done would’ve never happened! Do you think Trevor cared about you when he showed up to your wedding high on heroin?”

Michael shut his eyes, trying to keep himself from reliving the memory. “I fucked him the night before and told him I loved him” 

“But he was on drugs,  _ and  _ he was your best man. He was self destructing as a way to pry you away from your future”

Michael looked up at Friedlander now. He looked more involved than he’d ever looked, as if Michael was making some grand breakthrough. But Michael wasn’t getting it, he just felt even worse. “Doc, I pay you an arm and a leg for this...just go easy on me”

“Michael, did you ever have sex with Trevor?” Friedlander asked abruptly

He jerked upward, eyebrows furrowed.  _ Didn’t I just say I did? Am I losing my mind? Or is does he just not give a shit?  _  “I...told you, I loved him”

“And you two had sex?”

“I mean...yeah” he felt like he was admitting something unspeakable when Friedlander’s expression turned sour. He shook his head, and Michael felt his heart drop. “What?”

“Did you ever have sex with any other men?”

He bit his lip.  _ Why is he asking this, can shrinks ask this? Why do I even care if I have to answer it?  _ “I mean, in prison...me and my cellie we use to get lonely and uh, just blowies. After I got out, that was it. I think he actually died back in ‘98”

“Michael don't you find it strange that you have such a connection to Trevor but not your wife? Trevor wasn’t stable, Michael, in any shape or form. He wasn’t looking out for you! He was trying to tear you down!”

All Michael could do was laugh, what else could he do? This all sounded alien to him, and he didn’t want to make the connections. He rested against the sofa with his arm slung around the side, “So what’re you saying?”

“What I’m saying, Michael, is that you shouldn’t feel guilty about what happened.”

Michael laughed again, but this time it turned back into tears and a bitterness was stuck in his throat again. He hissed as he slapped his tears off his cheeks, but Friedlander continued.

“Michael, you didn’t love Trevor, and he didn’t love you. You depended on him, and it was a horrible relationship. The only relationship that was ever built to last is the one with your wife, not the man who told you about how he was abused as a child like they were loving anecdotes” 

“Then why’d this fucking hurt so much?” Michael sobbed into his hands only because he knew that if he saw Friedlander watching him he’d haul off and knock his teeth in for watching him cry. 

“Because you want to believe the opposite of the truth: That you’re the monster and Trevor is the victim, but Michael...it wasn’t love, you have to remember that, it wasn’t love”

“Then what the fuck was it?!” Michael shouted. Friedlander jumped at Michael’s outburst, and he wanted him to. He was standing now with his fists balled up and his blood boiling in his veins. The rain outside hit Friedlander’s window like they were trying to break into his house. Michael wished they were knives so he could just be done and over everything. He hated himself so much he felt like he was suffocating under the weight of his bones. He wished he died in Ludernoff with Brad Snider, and Trevor Phillips, the only person he thought he loved. 

But just as Michael thought Friedlander would put him out of his misery and just kill him in his living room, he returned to his professional demeanor. He stood with Michael and put a hand on his back, “I want us to start working on your sexual problems, Michael” 

He calmed at his touch. He put his hands in his pockets and grabbed out a paper clipped wad of cash to hand over to him. “But I need you to remember: You didn’t love Trevor, you wanted someone to validate your behavior. That wasn’t love, and it's good that he’s gone”

Michael just kept nodding. Everything felt so numb, at least now he could go home and drink himself into a coma. Maybe if Amanda was merciful she’d let him crash on the couch and not spray him with water to get him out of the living room so the kids wouldn’t see him. 

“You’re a good man Michael, you’ve just had a very strange and difficult life. You’re a psychopathic narcissist, but we can fix this! You just gotta believe buddy!”

“Uh huh” Michael droaned

“So keep up the good fight, and see you next week?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world”

 

**2014**

Michael awkwardly stood under the blinding convenience store florescence lights staring at a wall of items marked  _ “Date Night Items”.  _

He looked over the shelves to see if anyone else was in the store with him, but it was just the kid at the counter who he _ swore  _ was watching him.  _ This is stupid, just pick one and go.  _ He took a small blue box of condoms off the shelf marked  _ Regular Size Ultra Thin with Lubricant for easy fun.  _ He rubbed the back of his neck as he turned it over, trying not to think about how incredibly embarrassing it was that he hadn’t bought condoms in years. 

The last time he went out and bought a box was when him and Amanda first moved to Los Santos and she was still willing to have sex with him. It was depressing, half hearted, and the only enjoyable part of it was when it was over. Of course Michael didn’t have any condoms on him at that time, he was never really one to come prepared for these things. Amanda or Trevor normally had him covered, but here he was again awkwardly trying to figure out the difference between  _ Thin  _ and  _ Ultra Thin  _ and if that meant that they were more prone to breaking or not. 

_ I just need rubbers and lube, jesus why is this so complicated?  _ He put the box of thin condoms back and tried to find the plainest looking box he could manage but there was none to be seen. It was all ridiculously overwhelming for him, studded, ribbed,  _ I have no fucking clue what i’m looking at.  _ He didn’t care which box he ended up buying but he wanted it to be something special for Trevor, but all of the boxes advertised being special. 

“ _ Fuck it _ ” he whispered as he grabbed one of each box. If nothing else this just meant he wouldn’t need to be back for a while to buy more.

On his way to the register he paused by the snack bar and grabbed a few cupcakes, hoping to absolute christ that the kid wasn’t going to talk to him about his purchase.  _ Condoms and cupcakes, the Trevor Philips and Michael De Santa experience.  _ He sighed.

“Ready?” The kid called as Michael began towards his general sphere of consciousness.

Michael nodded, putting the basket on the counter and taking out his wallet. The kid didn’t look any older than maybe twenty five or so, was working a weak mustache and tired eyes. Michael told himself that the kid went to LS University and worked this job to afford his books and was too exhausted to give a fuck what some middle aged guy was buying at 9pm on a tuesday.

“Having company tonight?” He asked as he scanned the first box of condoms. 

Michael wiped his mouth, letting out a frustrated exhale. The cashier didn’t notice, the sound of beeping filled the silence. Michael felt his phone ringing and withdrew it to see Tracey calling. Most of the time he’d always pick up, if one of children called him it was normally something important. Without thinking he hit ignore call, a welt of guilt building up in his stomach.  _ She’ll be fine, we can talk in the morning.  _

“$10.78” The cashier said as he slid a transparent plastic bag in Michael’s direction. Michael stared at the bag trying to imagine how quickly he’d have to run to the car with it.

“Pack of redwoods too”

“Filtered?”

He nodded. 

In his younger days he would’ve just robbed the kid once he had the items he needed. He’d get a power kick out of pointing the gun at his head and asking if he was ready to die, and then laughing when he pissed himself. But that kind of thing just didn’t come to him anymore, there wasn’t any reason to. When he was retired use use to fantasize about that sort of thing constantly, something to get his blood running. But it was the same as watching old gangster movies: What was the point when he’d already made it to the top? 

He paid for his things and left the store, nearly tripped over his loafers as he sprinted to his car. He felt his phone buzzing again and a singular text message from Tracey glowed on his screen,  _ “I HATE YOU!”.  _ He grinned,  _ there’s my baby.  _ He put his phone on silent as he inhaled the night time Los Santos air.

***

The last time Michael and Trevor had sex was in the back of Michael’s sedan when he was staying in Sandy Shores but it was barely romantic. Towards the end of their time together before 2004, they never had to be romantic. It was all frustration or loneliness, a desperate plea between the two of them to be like they were when they were younger but it wasn’t so. Michael remembered how Trevor would sit at the edge of the motel bed smoking one of his cigarettes asking, “How’d we get here, Mikey?”

The last time they had sex before the Ludernoff job was back in 2002. Michael remembered it too well, it left a black hole in his heart. They were already drifting, a telltale sign was that Trevor didn’t even call to ask how the kids were doing every other week. He was roaming around aimlessly alone for weeks on end, Michael would pretend he didn’t exist so he wouldn’t worry. Then Trevor would spontaneously show up at his door, refusing to come inside, beckoning Michael to just spend some time with him like they use to. Michael knew he meant going to a movie, or eating shitty cheap diner food. But when Trevor showed up Michael drove him to the nearest motel and fucked him until he came and then tried to leave. It was like a chore for Michael, just him giving Trevor his fix so he’d fuck off for a few weeks. But that night, Trevor yelled at him that he didn’t come all the way out to nowhere’s-ville for Michael to use him and leave him. He begged him to stay, but Michael told him he couldn’t; that he had Amanda and the kids at home. But somehow, in some strange way, Trevor just looking at Michael with those hurt eyes got him to stay. The next thing Michael knew he was on his back with Trevor kissing him, loving him, cherishing him. In stark contrast to how Michael had treated him, Trevor made sweet love to Michael, keeping him going so long that when he came he let out years of unrest. It was Trevor’s way of begging him to stay, not to leave him out in the cold again. And afterwards Trevor fell asleep in Michael’s arms and Michael almost threw up thinking about how angry Amanda was going to be when he got back. Michael woke up to Trevor shooting up on the side of the bed, scared to leave his side. Michael told him it was all a mistake, that he was sorry he came with him to that motel room. Trevor yelled at him to stay and that there was nothing wrong, he was just being a chickenshit. 

_ “I love you, not like Amanda, not like anyone else! Why can’t you just fucking accept me and you?” _ he cried out,

_ “You don't  _ love  _ me, you want me because you’re lonely. I wanted you because I was lonely”  _ Michael tried to explain, but Trevor didn’t play Michael’s games, that was the problem. Trevor pushed him hard but Michael grabbed his wrists and hissed his final blow,  _ “What we did when we were kids is over, we were just kids who didn’t know any better. Now I know better, and we ain't doing this again.” _

There were countless memories as hurtful as that one that replayed in Michael’s mind almost constantly. For years Friedlander explained to Michael that  _ Trevor  _ was the wronged party in that situation because  _ Michael  _ was trying to be a father and a husband. For years Michael ate it up, for $1000 a session, Friedlander helped Michael repress any feelings he ever had towards Trevor, towards anyone who wasn’t his wife. Of course this didn’t help his marriage, and it certainly did nothing for his emotional state, but he felt comforted by the idea that he wasn’t wrong. Afterall, wasn’t he just trying to be a good man?

_ Good man, that's laughable  _ He thought to himself as he pulled into his driveway. He had accepted he wasn’t a good man, he never was. He was a father, a husband, a man, but he was also a liar, a snake, a criminal. He accepted these things about himself as he pushed Devin Weston’s car off the side of the cliff, snickering at how he was having a bigger breakthrough killing a millionaire than he ever had in Friedlander’s office. 

Michael got out of the car and looked up at the guest bedroom window facing the freeway. The smell of the cars passing by and the ocean air created this scent that felt so oddly peaceful to him.  _ Is this what home is suppose to smell like? Always thought it’d smell cleaner.  _

As he made his way to the front door he thought about all of the years together he’d have with Trevor from now on. He’d have to start wearing his hearing aid again because Trevor was always on him about it since his right eardrum ruptured back in ‘88. He also imagined that he would be driving Trevor off to see his therapist, and in the process Trevor would try to get Michael to get a new shrink himself ( _ “If I gotta do it, you have to too, Townley you over-indulgent prick” _ ). He’d probably have to start some kind of system to force Trevor to take a shower and who does what chores because even at forty eight, Michael wasn’t above admitting that he was bad at keeping his house tidy. 

_ I’m gonna love him right this time.  _

Before he even opened the door he was met with an ungodly wave of vanilla and cinnamon scents. Inside he found the house completely dark, save for the scented candles that Vanessa had given Michael as a housewarming present lit along the staircase. 

“ _ The fuck? _ ” Michael snorted as he took off his shoes. He made his way over to the staircase and started blowing out the candles, knowing that fire was never a good thing with Trevor around. He yelled up the stairs, “T? You do this or am I gonna get flanked by a fuckin’ burglar lighting these things?”

“Follow the fucking candles, sugar tits” Trevor yelled from upstairs,

Michael rolled his eyes, a smile stuck on his face. As he climbed up the stairs blowing out candles he found the master bedroom door left ajar, soft candlelight and the hum of  _ Time After Time  _ bleeding into the hallway. 

Michael pushed the door open and found Trevor completely naked, save for the stuffed orangutan resting against his dick. Michael broke into a laugh, holding the doorframe as Trevor rolled onto his stomach. “Something funny, Townley?” He snickered with a raised brow

“A couple of things” Michael said through the tears, making his way over to the mattress. He carefully lowered himself down but still stumbled backwards, Trevor being no help as he tugged at Michael’s suit jacket. “First: I thought we both agreed that Cyndi Lauper ain't shit and you put this on?”

“You had any requests for the playlist you should’ve submitted a written request a month ago” Trevor groaned pulling Michael down. Michael laid on his back with a hand against Trevor’s face illuminated by candlelight, the vanilla and cinnamon masking his natural musk. 

“Second: Did you seriously do all of this?”

“All of what?”

“ _ This _ ” Michael laughed gesturing the room, 

Trevor rolled his eyes, “No the fucking stuffed monkey did it, Michael”

“And  _ third... _ When did you get so fuckin’ gorgeous”

Trevor opened his mouth to talk but words escaped him. Michael smiled at Trevor’s initial shock before Trevor snickered while he rose to straddle Michael. He began fussing around with his buttons, swearing under his breath. Michael could feel his hands shaking, the passive anger rising up inside of him that they were separated by a layer of cloth.ing Michael sat up and took off his jacket to help. Trevor rested his forehead against Michael’s cheek. Michael leaned in to kiss his collar bone that stuck out from his skin. He followed the bone over to his shoulder and kissed his muscles, Trevor let out a groan as he stuck his hand on Michael’s bare chest. 

Once Trevor felt Michael’s hand brush up against his cock he pushed him against the mattress, but neither of them could really get into it. Michael sighed, “Trev, I love you, baby, but this song isn’t gonna fly”

“Yeah I don't know what the fuck I was thinkin’” Trevor agreed as he rolled over to grab his phone off the ground. Michael watched him from behind as he scrolled through his phone for a better song to start their night off to. As Michael laid on his side watching him, he traced the outline of Trevor’s body against the warm lights. Then it hit him all in one go that  _ this  _ was Trevor, and he was the same as he ever was.

He had little rolls of fat on the sides of his body now, more scars on his back, a couple of scrapes and bruises for good measure. Meth and heroin had done a good number on him, but Michael still saw the kid who he use to run with. But he  _ wasn’t  _ a kid anymore,  _ they  _ weren’t kids anymore. They were two grown men, together after all these years, and only belonged to each other for once their in lives. 

Michael crawled over to Trevor and held him from behind with his legs straddled on Trevor’s sides. Trevor smiled as Michael rested his chin on his shoulder and began kissing his arms again. “You really got attention issues, M”

“Its because of you” Michael smiled, “I spent nine years away from you and now it's like I can't get enough”

“Yeah well, you chose to leave”

“I did, but not again.”

Trevor put his phone down as a familiar beat began to beat from the phone. Michael bit his lip as he tried to place the tune, it was rough but soft like Trevor. “ _ with the sugar sickness / you spy the kidnap kid / who kids you to oblivion”  _ It was on the tip of Michael’s tongue, he swore to god he’d even heard this song live. But before he could contemplate any longer Trevor was upon him again, all of his weight against Michael as he wrapped his arms around him and kissed him deep. He kissed Michael like he was hungry for him, like he wanted to eat him whole. He strangely tasted of mint,

“T, did you brush your teeth for me?”

“I’m not a jackass” Trevor defended, resting the palm of his hand against Michael’s left pec. Michael inhaled deep, his hand caressing Trevor’s as he grabbed a fistful of chest hair. “I took a shower too”

“You must really like me” Michael smiled,

“You’re the worst person I’ve ever met, Michael Townley” Trevor’s face went into a soft smile as he turned his head. He ran his fingers along the side of Michael’s head, examining him, watching him. Michael had always been the one who Trevor caught staring, but Michael was use to waking up and finding Trevor watching him. They always got on one another for it, usually joking that the other was way too needy or just a plain creep. But as a soft guitar solo took the room, they existed in liminal space and both of them watched each other. Trevor from the top of Michael with his fiery brown eyes illuminated by candlelight, whispered, “But I’m lucky that I got you”

“I’m the luckiest bastard in this whole fucking town to have you again, T” 

“ _ Nobody  _ has me, sugar tits” He laughed, “You can't control me”

“Wanna bet?” Michael dared as he reached for Trevor’s dick that bobbed above his stomach. As he took it in his hands Trevor let out a breath, thus tightening his grip on Michael’s chest hair and making Michael wince. Trevor caught the sound and smiled.

“You gonna order me around, cowboy?”

“What was it you use to say?  _ I didn’t have nerve, you didn’t have direction _ ?”

“The past tense is important there”

“Yeah well how about I direct you?” Michael said tilting his head, but Trevor was already one step ahead of him. He was traveling down his body, kissing his neck, his shoulders, his nipples. Michael let out a groan as Michael wrapped his lips around them, and dug his nails into his shoulders. “Sensitive as ever” Trevor smirked,

“Fuck off”

“Make me”

Michael sat up on his arm and pushed Trevor’s head down. Trevor made quick work of Michael’s pants and tore them off with a hungry sound. Before he could descend again, Michael had him in his arms again. Trevor breathed hard into him as Michael gripped both of their dicks together. He wasn’t expecting Trevor to be half hard, for some reason the idea of that completely escaped him. “What you aren't excited yet, baby?”

“Mollis ain't kicked in yet,  _ baby _ ”

Michael tried to laugh but Trevor bit his lip and stopped him. Michael pulled him back, their mattress slightly creaking as they fell back against it. Trevor let go of Michael’s lip leaving an imprint in the skin. Michael licked the spit he left behind as he watched Trevor drop down to his dick and run his lips along the side of his length. Trevor pushed Michael’s thighs up to get better leverage, letting him rest his legs against the back of his shoulders. Michael sat up on his forearms watching,  _ christ  _ he felt like his heart was gonna jump out of his chest. 

Who was the last person he let touch him like this? Certainly not Amanda. It was all sad handjobs when they were still on speaking terms during their marriage. He’d hired girls to make him feel better about himself throughout the years but half of the time ended the encounter feeling worse than before. Sex normally came with a fair bit of guilt or shame for Michael, something he tried to swallow and forget about for as long as he could. Normally the guilt was enough to ruin his hard on, make him feel pathetic and lonely, sometimes he’d even cry in his car to Phil Collins until he felt strong enough to go home. 

But Trevor always had a talent for making the world just melt away when him and Michael were together. He paid such close attention to Michael, made every movement count, every kiss worth it. Maybe it was out of their mutual desperation for companionship that they knew just how to treat one another. But Michael wanted to believe it was something deeper like in the movies. Afterall, Trevor knew Michael better than anyone else, so who's to say he didn’t know the secret to blocking out the world just by sucking him off or fucking him?

Trevor pumped Michael as he teased, kissing his dick as if it was gonna shatter in his hands if he wasn’t careful enough. Michael hissed in anticipation and placed a hand on the top of Trevor’s head. Trevor of course looked up to see Michael begging him,  _ just suck me off already man, don't leave me hanging.  _ Of course Trevor knew how to fuck with him, “What song is this?”

Michael groaned, trying to force Trevor down but he didn’t waver. He was smiling from ear to ear watching Michael trying to focus but ultimately failing. Trevor repeated, “I aint suckin’ until you can place the name, sugar tits”

Michael hissed and clutched at the bare mattress.  _ Christ we don't even have a fucking bedsheet, wonderful.  _ Trevor licked the tip of Michael’s dick and let his fingers crawl about his body until they rested against his nipples. He gave them a squeeze and Michael let out a moan, “C’mon...you know this song, Mikey” Trevor continued,

“I’m fucking thinking!” Michael yelled,

“ _ past sidewalk ashes / a last lovers arc / you come apart to intertwine _ ” Trevor sang hoping to help, but Michael knew it was just apart of his game.  _ Jesus  _ he knew just how to fuck with him. “I use to play it  _ aaall _ the time, Mikey boy. C’mon you’re breaking my heart down here”

Michael tried to think back, think back to the dingy motel rooms they stayed in when they were kids. He thought back to the warm summer nights they spent in the back of Trevor’s Bodhi with the radio on. Even the endless snowy tundra’s they drove through for hours on end to get to their next job.  _ There’s hundreds of songs, all he ever fucking did was play music and talk about bands. Fuck...Fuck… _

_ you love him / you love him for yourself / you love him and no one, no one else  _

“ _ Daphne Descends _ !” He called out finally, a triumphant tone in his voice. “Smashing Pumpkins--we went to go see them perform and I gave you a blowie from the back bleachers”

The additional information wasn’t needed, Trevor had already taken him in his mouth. Michael gasped as he felt the edges of his teeth against his dick, his uvula hitting the tip of his cock. Michael bit down on his lip and clenched his fists as Trevor took him all the way in with his nose resting against Michael’s pubic hair. 

Trevor barely gagged, he clenched the sides of Michael’s legs as he pulled his head back up. He pumped Michael as he sucked him with his eyes shut, soft moans escaping him that Michael relished in. He only took a break from sucking him to take a breath and lick the side of his dick. All the while Michael watched, trying to hold in his moans of pleasure but ultimately losing to that idea. 

As Trevor picked up momentum he stuck two fingers up Michael’s ass, immediately jarring him. He shot up, a hand against Trevor’s forehead to stop him from moving. Trevor looked at him with curious eyes, dick still in his mouth. “Get on your back” Michael said, 

Trevor slowly withdrew, a long line of spit and pre-cum connecting his mouth to Michael’s dick even after he left. It landed on the bed and rested against his lips. He licked the mixture up while Michael grabbed the bag from the convenience store. He laid on his side, wrapping his arms around Michael who fumbled to take out the variety he’d bought. But Trevor reached out and grabbed one of the prepackaged cupcakes he’d bought, cooing, “Ooo Mikey, you even got me snacks? Aw, what a fatty”

“Just in case you said I wasn’t sweet enough on you” Michael winked,

Trevor cackled, but Michael continued. He held the boxes out for Trevor to see but he just gave him another confused look. “What?”

Michael took a heavy sigh, scratching the back of his head. “I don't...which one…?” He stammered,

Trevor chuckled, reaching over and looking at the boxes. Michael rested against his stomach, arm wrapped around him.  _ We’re the same as ever,  _ Michael thought to himself. Trevor had been the first man he had sex with who he had any feelings for. Prior to that Michael had sucked cock in prison, but never had anything serious. He didn’t think that men had feelings for men, that he was just lonely and that was it. But Trevor was always an anomaly, always existing outside of any understanding Michael had. 

When they first had sex Trevor acted more careful and gentle than any other time Michael had seen him. Now he was picking out condoms that Michael otherwise had no idea which to use. 

“Ribbed and studded, huh?” He chuckled, “Fuck...I can barely read the shit under this in this light”

Michael took it and attempted to give it a read but he was no better. “I mean...I’m pretty sure they all got lube”

“I’m not in the practice of wasting perfectly good condoms, Mikey. I ain't gonna open some fuckin’ plastic package only to find some dried out rubber” Trevor shot with an accusatory finger, “And  _ you  _ need to start wearing your fucking glasses, Townley, and where’s your hearing aid? Jesus you’re falling apart”

Michael rolled his eyes, shaking his head. He pushed Trevor over and took one of the blue boxes out of his hands,  _ Lubricated  _ in bold white letters. “Is this one okay?”

“You even remember how to put that on?”

“Do you seriously think I’m that pathetic, bro?” Michael frowned as he tore the box open, removing a shining blue condom wrapper from the box. He carefully opened the package from the side, his dick aching under him. He couldn’t look at Trevor until he had the thing on or else he’d just end up getting flustered that he wasn’t able to put it on fast enough.

“I just wanna believe that  _ maybe,  _ just  _ maybe,  _ you didn’t fuck anyone else after you royally fucked me over” Trevor admitted. “I didn’t let anyone fuck me. I mean, I fucked a good bunch of folks and had a few cocks in my mouth and if a girl comes into Philip's territory and asks me to eat her out, who am I to say no?”

“Alright,  _ alright,  _ jesus” Michael laughed half-heartedly. He slipped the condom on as quick as he could and had his arms around Trevor again. Trevor spread his legs and beckoned Michael who kneeled before him. “I could never do it”

“Do what? Consummate a relationship with your ol’ pal T in a shared beach house in Del Perro in the fakest city in the world?”

“No man...no other guys, not since you. I couldn’t do it, I tried, but I never got as far as the bar counter” Michael put his hands on the sides of Trevor’s face, his thumb caressing his cheek. The years had not been kind to either of them, but fuck if Trevor was still the most beautiful man he’d ever seen.

At Michael’s confession, Trevor’s smile returned. He put his arms around Michael’s back and pulled him in. Their chests touched and a shared warmth between them made them both feel like they were  _ home.  _ Trevor kissed Michael, Michael kissed him back. “I missed you” Michael whispered,

“I missed you too, Mikey. Now fuck me hard, cowboy”

Michael positioned his dick with one hand and guided himself in. Trevor shut his eyes, letting out a heavy breath into Michael’s mouth as the head of Michael’s dick entered him. Michael didn’t leave the warmth that was being embraced by Trevor, instead he tucked his head in and kissed his neck, taking in that moment. Trevor was so fucking warm and tight, he felt so ridiculously good on his cock. No one ever felt this good on him, no one took his breath away just when he got half of his dick in them. Everything about that moment felt too dreamy to him, like he’d wake up any second. So what if he did? If this was a dream this was the best one he’d had in years. The softness of the candles, the stupidly intoxicating smell of cinnamon and vanilla, Trevor’s soft eyes and clean skin against his. The mattress scratched at his knees, the dim lighting made it harder for him to make out the most intricate details of Trevor’s face and body, but  _ god  _ he’d never been in this kind of situation. Soft candlelight and  _ making love  _ with someone he actually cared about, and didn’t have any intentions of leaving. It was a first, it was strange to him, dreamy, but he allowed himself to enjoy it.

“Fuck…” Trevor breathed under Michael, the muscles in his neck tightening under his skin. Michael sucked on the skin around Trevor’s neck, licking the vein that lead up to his skull.

Michael lifted his head, wiping Trevor’s forehead with the palm of his hand. Both of them were drenched already, Michael in particular after Trevor’s show earlier in the evening. “Baby, you all good?” Michael asked,

Trevor opened his eyes, a daring smirk escaping his lips. “Fuck me”

That's all it takes. Michael thrusted forward and Trevor let out a moan, louder than anything else that evening. He grabbed at the back of Michael’s head getting a fistful of hair in the process. Michael lets out a gasp, “Oh fuck, oh christ…”

He continued thrusting, a steady momentum developing as the world faded away again. He watched Trevor who switches between a staring contest with Michael to shutting his eyes and hissing through his teeth. Eventually Trevor’s moans and staggered breath went rhythmically with Michael’s thrusts, a steady stream of “Fuck, Mikey, Mikey, Mikey...” came spilling from his lips.

“Oh Trev, baby, fucking christ” Michael stammered as he felt himself getting closer, and closer. He bit his lip in frustration, angry that he was already getting so close to cumming when they had just started. But Michael doesn’t let up, it feels too good to slow down or stop now. Trevor’s digging his nails in Michael’s chest and trying to get more of him as if there was anymore left to give. 

“I love you, Mikey, I love you, I love you, I love you” Trevor panted, his eyelids fluttering, his grip tightening. Michael grabbed him by his chin and kissed him, feeling inside of him, feeling every part of him.  _ Fuck I missed him, fuck I need him. _

“I love you, Trev, fuck, I really fucking do” Michael moaned, a soft numbness coming from the back of his skull. He adjusted his position, thrusting harder, faster. Him and Trevor locked eyes as Michael reached down and began to jerk off Trevor as he felt himself coming. Trevor held Michael’s hair as if it was all that was keeping him on earth. His legs locked behind Michael and he put his forehead up against Michael’s. 

“Don't you fucking look away from me” Trevor swallowed, “Don't you leave me for a second”

“I’m here, baby. I’m all here, I’m all yours”

Trevor came first, a long off-pitch moan escaping his mouth as his muscles convulsed. He breathed the sound of him coming into Michael’s mouth and tore out a good few strands of his hair as well. Michael felt Trevor’s cum on his fingers and raised it to his lips to taste. But Trevor stuck his head out and sucked on Michael’s fingers.

“Fuckin’ A, Trev, Baby, Baby, fuck, I’m coming, fuck...Fuck” Michael warned as he adjusted himself again. His knees and arms shook as he gave his final thrusts, he tried to break his face away from Trevor but Trevor returned his hands to the back of his head. Michael collapsed onto Trevor as he came, holding him and moaning stifled breaths, years of unrest and repression coming undone in a matter of seconds. 

Michael laid beside Trevor, eyes shut, panting. Trevor laid there beside him, and put his hand in his. “Fuck, dude” Michael eventually laughed, “Fuck…”

Trevor turned himself over and rested his head against his arm. With his freehand he caressed Michael’s chest, dreamily watching him through his post-coitous eyes. Michael remembered those eyes, the ones that beckoned him to stay when he had to go. The ones that would appear after Michael nearly fucked Trevor into a coma but had to either go be a father or go be Amanda’s husband. When they were young, those eyes were just Trevor hoping that Michael wouldn’t become another person who abandoned him by the roadside. And now? They were the same. 

“Hey” Michael breathed as he turned his head to the side, heart racing just thinking about Trevor’s stupidly beautiful face beside his.

“Howdy” Trevor smiled,

Michael turned himself around and pulled Trevor in closer. “We ain't got any blankets, so I think we gotta do what we use to do in North Yankton”

“Mmm hmm” Trevor agreed

“I love you”

Trevor flinched at the words but didn’t falter. He kissed Michael, eyes shut, his stubble scratching Michael’s chin. “You gonna stay this time or what, cupcake?”

“I told you, I don't got anywhere else to be”

Trevor shut his eyes, nuzzling his head into Michael’s shoulder. For a few minutes they shared a quiet silence save for the soft beats coming from Trevor’s phone at the foot of the mattress. Michael ran his hands along Trevor’s biceps, realizing it was the first time he’d ever seen his arm free of track marks in their whole relationship. He hoped he could stay clean, he told himself he could handle it if he relapsed. But after years of wishing that Trevor had died along with Brad, the idea of  _ actually  _ losing him was what kept him up at night. Afterall, if Franklin didn’t have the heart of gold that he did, then there was a 50% chance that Michael would’ve ended up truly alone in the world without Trevor.

Trevor had always been the one to say that he would off himself if Michael died, hell in the past he threatened to stab himself in the leg if Michael didn’t wear a bulletproof vest to scores. Michael use to think idly that he would do that too, he’d never known anyone in his life like Trevor. No one made him feel like Trevor Philips did, no one made him laugh, cry, fight like Trevor did. So the idea that he would immediately off himself if something were to happen to Trevor had been a thought since they formed their partnership. But over the years the idea began to dull out with the addition of Tracey, Amanda, and Jimmy. But now his kids were grown, him and his wife happily divorced, and he was right back where he started.  _ I lose you, I lose everything.  _ He didn’t think he’d ever say that to Trevor, he imagined that he’d probably punch him in the jaw for it. 

“I hate being old” Trevor eventually grumbled into Michael’s neck, “This is bullshit”

“What part? The grey hair, the wrinkles--”

“I wanna go again” Trevor deadpanned.

Michael was still hard, condom still wrapped around his dick. But he was still completely  _ fucking spent  _ from before. His arms were tired, his legs sore, his knees were aching. “Oh. I mean, you wanna be on top? I could do that”

“No man, I mean--yes! Next time, I do, because you’re fat as fuck and--”

“If this relationship is gonna work you gotta stop being a dick about my weight”

“I’m sorry. You know I love you fatso, you’re just so damn chubby! I love you for it” Trevor laughed as he groped one of Michael’s pecs. Michael slapped his hand but he didn’t let go, “This is bullshit because...I’m fucking exhausted, M, no pun intended”

Michael scoffed, “Damn you’re old”

“We’re the same age, fuckface!” Trevor yelled, his pout beginning to return to his face. “Getting old is bullshit. I took  _ Mollis  _ for this M, I had to tug at my boy to get him as hard as he is! And look at him! Wasted! We use to be able to go all fucking night, and now? How long was that? What fucking song is playing now?”

Michael let out a hum, hoping that would suffice as an answer because he really had no clue. He was also moderately offended that Trevor assumed he couldn’t go again. 

“Its Cheap Tricks! Fuck! We went for _ three fucking songs _ , M!” Trevor exclaimed, 

Michael tutted, kissing the top of Trevor’s head. “We can go again, at least I can go again. Just...I just need a minute”

“You mean a  _ nap _ ” Trevor corrected,

“Look I can still go!” Michael cried, his voice shrill. Trevor chuckled at his insecurity but didn’t mind it. He wrapped his arms around Michael, shutting his eyes again.

“Wait...did you say you took dick pills for this?”

“I am  _ not  _ a man of shame, Michael”

“Meth is one hell of a drug, huh?”

“You gonna keep that condom on all night or what?”

Michael already had his hands around his dick pulling it off. He sat up to throw it out but Trevor held onto his leg, a sour look on his face. “I gotta take a piss and throw this out!” Michael cried, “And you say  _ I’m  _ needy?”

Trevor grumbled to himself, laying back down on the mattress. “Go fuck yourself!”

“You wanna do me next time?” Michael chuckled as he tied the end of the condom. 

He went to the bathroom and flicked the lights on. The bright light burned his retinas and made him wince but he quickly adjusted. But as he came into the bathroom he realized they didn’t  _ have  _ a trashcan yet, not in the bathroom anyway. “Fuck” he said under his breath. He put the condom on the sink and told himself he would throw it out in the outdoor trash cans in the morning. He opened the toilet and pissed, looking at the bathtub that was tinted a light brown likely from Trevor’s shower earlier.  _ Alright, so we need a garbage can, some fucking towels, a bed, fuck what's it called...a shower curtain! God we’re a fucking mess. _

“Hey fat ass, I’m freezing over here without you” Trevor called,

“Hold your fuckin’ horses” Michael shouted back as he flushed the toilet. He headed back to the room and crawled back on the mattress with Trevor who was rooting around in the bag for a cupcake with his stuffed monkey under his arm. “What, no jabs at my weight?”

“Dont worry, chubs. I love you and all of your unnaturally preserved baked goods. Sides, I said I’d let that up, but I  _ do  _ love your chubs, Sugar” He said as he unwrapped one of the little chocolate ones filled with vanilla cream inside. He crumbled up the plastic in his hand and stuffed it back in the bag. He split it in half and handed the other to Michael. They laid back in each other’s arms, Trevor sighing as he chewed on his side of the cupcake.

“Remember when you jumped like a bitch when I put my fingers up your ass” He said with a mouthful of cupcake,

“Yeah, I do” Michael smirked, “You gotta give me more warning, I like that but, shit dude”

“I missed how your cock tasted” Trevor purred,

“I missed having you on my dick” Michael said back

“I’m still gonna need you to fuck me on that couch, Mikey”

“I can do it  _ tonight,  _ I just need to fucking rest” Michael defended, but Trevor just rolled his eyes. “I ain't that old”

“Whatever you say, sugar tits. Look  _ I’m  _ tired, okay? So hold me and talk about how nice my penis is” Trevor said. He licked his fingers of the chocolate crumbs left over from the cupcake. With his hands clean he wrapped his arms around Michael and groped one of his rolls, snickering as he rested his head against Michael’s arm.

“You never change” Michael smiled, “I’m happy for it”

“I think my dick got bigger, actually”

Michael snorted, “That so, huh?”

“Yeah, or at least I mean...I’ve always been longer than you, and you got a fat dick because you’re fat. But age made you wrinkle up, I’m still in my prime”

“I ain't small!” Michael cried,

“No, no, you’re...regular. You got a pretty good size dick, good enough for me anyway”

“Yeah well I  _ heard  _ you enjoying it, felt it too”

“I’m not saying you’re bad at fucking, Mikey. Just, look, can we talk about my penis? I prefer to talk about my penis”

Trevor ran his fingers through Michael’s hair as they continued talking. Michael ran his fingers along Trevor’s face and kissed him when his face got too distracting to ignore. In the softness of the candlelight they talked for hours until Trevor began to doze off. Michael rested his forehead against his, whispering “ _ I love you _ ” before he fell asleep holding him so tight he hoped he knew even in his dreams he wasn’t going to leave him again.

***

Michael awoke up to the sound of seagulls cawing in the distance and Trevor snoring. The white walls of their bedroom shined bright against the morning sun that came in from the hallway window. The house still smelled faintly of cinnamon and vanilla, but all candles left overnight had died out some hours prior. Michael imagined they’d never get the smell out, he hoped he didn’t. He turned and saw Trevor’s back turned to him with his head resting against Mr. Apricot Jam’s belly. Michael turned his body over and ran his hands along Trevor’s bicep, kissing his decade old memorial tattoo. Michael tried not to think about the first time he saw it, how he didn’t even know who Trevor was for the first few seconds he was in his house. He only caught on when he caught his name inked into his skin, the rest of the tattoo covered by Trevor’s shirt. It was one of the few tattoo’s Trevor had professionally done. He told Michael that after Ludernoff he couldn’t scrub him out of his mind, so he decided to imprint him on his skin. If only either man knew where they’d be ten years later.

Michael kissed the back of Trevor’s neck as his snoring shook the walls. Michael could see a little puddle of drool collecting on the orangutang's stomach but just laughed quietly to himself. He put his arm around Trevor’s waist and buried his face in his nape, he could still smell the night they had on him. 

It all felt like a dream, every part of the last month felt too good to be true.  _ I don't deserve this,  _ Michael thought,  _ people like me don't deserve this kind of second chance.  _ He kissed the base of Trevor’s skull, the stubble from his slow-growing hair pricking Michael’s lips. He felt too much for having just awakening. His entire body felt so sore, his legs were heavy as lead and he was more than ready for a shower. But his heart felt light in his chest, his lungs fragile in his chest as he took a shaky inhale of Trevor’s particular musk. Trevor’s rough skin felt like satin against Michael’s, all of his hair and all of his scars so damn  _ good.  _ He loved his back, in the years apart when he started his affair with meth, he grew a fair bit of muscle. Now it was like ripples along his spine, so strong and masculine. Michael kissed the individual moles on his shoulder, careful not to wake him. 

Michael of course thought of  _ Nelson in Naples _ that morning. There was a scene after Horatio and lady Emma made love and Emma whispered,  _ “My darling, I only wish we could live in this moment forever--in this calm after the storm” _ . Michael clinged to those words like it was his only relief. He use to say it to Amanda when they were still somewhat happily married so that she’d think him a romantic. He’d said it to Trevor once, but of course having been forced to watch  _ Nelson in Naples  _ a dozen times by then, caught on and called Michael a nerd. 

“Call me corny all you like, but I wish we could live in this moment forever, T” Michael whispered in his ear.

Trevor grumbled, “ _ Horny? _ ”

“What?” Michael laughed quietly, unsure if Trevor was awake or not.

Sure enough Trevor rolled over, a wet mark of drool on the side of his cheek and tired eyes looking at Michael with so much  _ affection  _ it made Michael feel raw. “You can suck me off if you want, princess. But I’m trying to get my eight hours in, not that you’d know” His voice was scratchy in the morning, it always had been. 

Michael wiped the spit from his cheek, “I said  _ corny. _ Go back to sleep”

“What with some creepy asshole watching me? No way, you might stab me in the back when my guard is down” Trevor yawned, “Least you’re pretty”

“Mmm that so? You think I’m pretty?” Michael snickered. He kissed Trevor who wasted no time hooking him back in. He grabbed the back of Michael’s neck and sleepily kissed him back with his eyes shut. Michael moved his hand to Trevor’s back, and shut his eyes as groped him. Trevor inhaled deeply, pulling himself up and straddling Michael. He bit his lips and dug his nails into his cheeks as Michael licked his teeth against his lips.

And then there was a ring from the front door. Both men ignored it, Michael’s hands already around Trevor’s dick. He laughed, “You’re still soft”

“Fuck off” Trevor growled, “Just keep it up, cowboy”

“That a demand?” Michael dared,

“You’re goddamn right it is, sugar tits”

Another ring, this time two in a row. Trevor lifted himself from Michael, yelling “ _ Fuck off!” _

“Probably just the mailman” Michael said, desperate to get Trevor’s attention back on him again.

“Yeah well unless the mailman wants my foot up his ass, he better fuck right off”

Another ring, now it was constant. Trevor let out a low growl and Michael already saw him running out the door, ass naked, committing his first murder on their new property. Michael reached out and grabbed his arm, Trevor shooting him a wild look. “I’ll go see who it is, you gotta go get yourself hard anyway, right?” Michael winked,

Trevor bit his lip, and let out a frustrated sound. Michael scooted off the mattress and grabbed his boxers off the ground and his shirt. Trevor threw himself down on the mattress and grabbed his phone, mumbling “ _ I’ll fucking eat their limbs _ ”

As Michael headed out the door he reached down to grab his phone from his suit jacket. He’d left it on silent all night and figured he should take the free moment that he had running downstairs to check his messages.

_ 104 unread messages - Trace _

_ 30 unread messages - Jimmy _

_ 1 unread message - Amanda _

_ 3 unopened voicemails _

_ 20 missed calls - Trace _

He sucked on his teeth. He figured he’d wake up to this after he decided to ignore his phone the night before. It didn’t leave much for him to assume other than that whoever was at the door was probably someone who tried to get in contact with him the night before. 

He turned around and saw Trevor jerking off while he stared at his phone, mumbling about Taxes. “Don't come downstairs, alright?”

Trevor looked up from his phone, hand still moving, “What? You got another boyfriend I should know about?”

“No just…”  _ I wanna tell them but I wanna do it right, not with you running around naked.  _ “Just stay here, alright? Can you do that?”

“Whatever you need sugar tits, because when you get back? I’m demolishing your ass”

Michael forced a smile and shook his head, “I can hardly wait”

As he ran down the stairs wearing only his boxers and his shirt he realized the entire attire was wrong.  _ Why didn’t I grab my pants why the fuck did I come down here like this?  _ But the doorbell was still ringing, and now an accompanied knock and Tracey shrieking  _ “Pops!”  _ forced him to face the music anyway.

He threw open the door and tried to force the most inconspicuous smile he could muster while also blocking the doorway with his body. But Tracey was a storm just like her mother. She pushed through Michael and made her way inside with Jimmy awkwardly shuffling behind her.

“I can't believe you! You ruined my fucking life!” Tracey cried, with her bleached hair pulled into a sloppy bun and her hot pink lip gloss slathered on her lips. Michael sighed, shutting the door, making his way over to the fridge to grab himself a beer. “You don't even care, do you?”

“What’d I do? I just woke up, honey” Michael sighed with that snarky sweetness he had in his voice anytime he was accused of ruining  _ anyone’s _ life. 

“You tried to break her boyfriend’s fingers!” Jimmy said, his head turned down as he played on his phone.

Michael lifted a brow, a scowl already appearing. He put his hands on the kitchen island and looked at Tracey who crossed her arms from across the room. “He’s not my boyfriend! He’s  _ Hannah’s _ boyfriend, and  _ you  _ totally embarrassed me yesterday and threatened my friends!”

He thought back to the kid on the pier, the snarky asshole who couldn’t shoot for shit and made an embarrassment of himself even without Michael’s help. Michael reached in the fridge and grabbed himself a beer, sighing, “I didn’t know, Trace, alright? But your friend is a jackass, so I had to put him in his place”

_ Put him in his place? Jesus now his words are coming out of my mouth.  _

“Jeremy is kind of a dick” Jimmy added, “But, weren’t you tryin’ to be better, pop?”

“I’m retired, but...Look, this guy was being an asshole to your dad, so I had to teach him a lesson. I didn’t break his fucking fingers, so I don't know what the fuck the problem is”

“Hannah said you tried to break his fingers because he...he…” Michael took a deep breath, a sharp pain coming from the inside of his chest. He watched Tracey trying to piece the words together, she had adopted Michael’s nervous tick of rubbing the bridge of her nose while she thought.  _ She’s so grown up, both of them are.  _ “You won a fucking toy for some... _ guy,  _ and Jeremy said some shitty things and then you tried to break his fingers...over some  _ guy _ ”

Michael didn’t respond. He raised his beer to his lips while his children watched him waiting for a reply. As he put his beer back on the counter he ran his fingers through his hair, the back of his scalp sore from Trevor the night before. “What are you trying to say to me, Trace? Jim? Because I like direct statements” he finally said,

“Look we don't care if you’re gay--” Tracey tried,

“Yeah I mean I got gay friends, and they’re cool, I mean, I’m not gay. But gay people are cool, I mean they’re okay?--” Jimmy interrupted,

“--But...what's going on, dad?” 

Michael took a deep breath, his fingers pinching his nose. He couldn’t think, his mind just went blank whenever he tried to imagine telling Jimmy and Tracey. He  _ wanted  _ to tell them, sure, but he didn’t know how. He thought maybe a restaurant where they couldn’t make a scene, but who was he kidding? They were  _ his _ kids, they’d make a scene anywhere if they wanted to. 

No, he couldn’t think it because he couldn’t imagine what the outcome would be. Sure he hadn’t been the best father, but he still wanted to be apart of his kids lives. He could so easily see the looks of disgust on their faces in his mind when he imagined coming out. The questions that would come, the hate in their voices. So far it wasn’t like he imagined, but if nothing else Michael’s life was filled with surprises.

Like Trevor coming down the stairs wearing his jeans and nothing else carrying his stuffed monkey. “Well, well, no one told me we were havin’ an intervention” Trevor’s rough voice was scratching at Michael’s eardrums, his movements making his blood run cold.  _ One fucking thing, I ask him to do one fucking thing.  _

“Hey Uncle T!” Jimmy called from the couch,

“James” Trevor greeted. He went over to the kitchen island and sat himself up on the marble. He reached out for Michael’s beer and took a long drink. Michael just shut his eyes, exhaling. “Now look if anyone tries to dull my blades I’ll rip your throat out and feed it to the other one”

“Of course you’re here too” Tracey scoffed, “You two are always together when you’re out ruining my life!”

Trevor smiled, “Ooo, what’d we do, Mikey? Memory is a little fuzzy, well, except a very  _ recent  _ memory I don't think the children want to hear”

Michael shot him a glare, but Trevor just gave him a wicked smile. He crossed his legs on the counter and turned himself around with his monkey in between his legs. 

“Look, kids, I’m not...I’m not  _ gay _ ” Trevor smiled softly at Michael, his hand on his shoulder as he spoke to his children. Tracey and Jimmy exchanged glances as Michael tried to get his words together. Jimmy stood with Tracey at the counter, phone on the counter faced down. Michael sighed, thinking about how this was the first time he’d given him his full attention in years. “I like men, I like women.”

“So you’re gay” Jimmy asked plainly

“No i’m uh, bisexual” Michael fumbled less with it now, but it still felt as if he was throwing a glass on the ground. He was expecting Tracey or Jimmy to grimace or scowl, but both just quietly processed their father’s words with a confused look on their faces. Trevor tightened his grip on Michael’s shoulder, eyes stuck on Jimmy and Tracey. Michael ignored him and gripped the counter until his knuckles turned white.

Tracey eventually broke the silence as she massaged the bridge of her nose, “I mean, obviously. Hannah said you were there with a guy, so like,  _ I  _ figured at least”

“Hey I said it was a 50/50 chance. Hannah’s always high anyway” Jimmy shot,

“And you said there was no way Pops was gay!” 

“You didn’t believe it either!”

“ _ Kids _ ” Trevor called while he snapped his fingers. Tracey and Jimmy turned their attention back to him, Michael completely floored by how involved they were in the conversation at all. “Now I think that if you have any questions to ask your daddy--”

“Who were you with?” Jimmy interrupted, but Trevor reached over and grabbed him by his collar. Michael yelled, grabbing Trevor’s arm and attempting to pull him back while Tracey laughed at the yelp Jimmy let out.

“You fucking interrupt me again, James, and I’ll send you back home to your mommy in little fucking pieces!” Trevor threatened,

“ _ Trevor! _ ” Michael yelled,

Trevor turned his head and saw Michael’s scowl, his warning eyes. He rolled his eyes, and let go of Jimmy, giving him an affectionate pat on the head. “Sorry, its the withdrawal”

“Yeah, sure, Uncle T” Jimmy said a little hurt, “But who was it?”

Michael tongued his cheek, eyes focused on the ground. His mind was going blank,  _ they seriously haven’t realized yet? They seriously don't know? _

“God see! I told you he wasn’t going to tell us!” Tracey yelled, “Uncle T, do you know who it was?”

Trevor gripped the stuffed monkey in between his legs giving Michael a burning stare while he choked down a laughing fit. Michael put a hand on his knee and looked at Tracey and Jimmy hoping that was enough. But of course it wasn’t enough. “Your spawn inherited your gift of perception, Mikey, it's absolutely amazing” Trevor smiled,

“Its Trevor” Michael said

“ _ ‘Its Trevor’  _ what?” Tracey repeated. Michael rubbed his temples as his children’s minds went to work. Tracey stared at Michael for a long time before she looked at Trevor who lifted a brow. Slowly she began to mouth the word  _ oh,  _ while Jimmy still tried to understand. 

“James, do you remember when I called you a while ago? That your daddy was stayin’ with me in Sandy Shores because he didn’t love you anymore?”

“Yeah, and you told me I was a whiney brat”

“Well all of those statements are true, except -- well --  _ I  _ still live in Sandy Shores. But when I’m in town, I’m sharing a bed with your pop pop”

Michael patted Trevor’s hand on his shoulder, avoiding Jimmy as best he could. But once the gears began shifting in Jimmy’s mind it was too late to take anything back. “Wait? Wait! Wait, wait, wait--” Jimmy stammered,

“I’m waiting” Trevor smiled,

“I’m getting a beer” Tracey breathed, but Trevor was on his feet the minute she started making her way towards the kitchen. He threw himself against the fridge and put a hand on the top of her head.

“Not in this house, far as I’m concerned you’re still a darling little 8 year old and you ain't drinkin’ in this house!” Trevor lectured,

“I’m twenty two! I’m about to be twenty three!”

“Well you can be  _ fifty  _ and you still aint drinkin’ in my presence, now look you’re already breaking my heart but you could at least give your dad some attention at least? C’mon you know how he gets when you ignore him! He breaks things!”

“I’ll break your fuckin’ fingers” Michael joked,

“See!” Trevor exclaimed

“Wait how long have you two been...like, are you even dating? Or, I mean--” Jimmy tried,

“Its uh...how long has it been Trevor?” Michael called,

Trevor held Michael against him with his arms around his waist kissing his cheek. Michael tried to bat him away but he persisted, “Twenty eight horrible, filthy years”

“Wait twenty eight?!” Tracey yelled, attempting ever so carefully to slowly open the fridge without alerting Trevor. But all it took was her hand around the handle for him to throw his leg up and slam the door shut while still holding her father. “You two were together before I was even  _ born _ ?”

“You wanna tell ‘em how we started dating, Mikey?”

“I don't think they wanna hear that”

“Your daddy kissed me after we robbed a jewelry store right after I got out of prison. It was in front of my car headlights too, The Cure was playing uh...what was it, Mikey?”

“ _ Boys Don't Cry _ ” Michael’s was shit at remembering exact songs that Trevor put on, but he remembered important ones, like the one that played when he first kissed Trevor. They were twenty one dancing in front of his headlights with beer in their hands, cheering at their escape from six cop cars and an entire town after them. Michael watched Trevor howl into the moonlight and reached over and kissed him. Trevor let him but after Michael pulled away he looked as if Michael had smacked the blue out his jeans. Michael didn’t say anything until Trevor grabbed him by his waist and they slow danced to the upbeat story of a man who realized he lost the love of his life and attempted to mask it with laughter. 

“I had a hard on the whole time” Trevor winked before he went in for a loud kiss on the side of Michael’s head. 

“Of course you did, T” Michael smiled he was feeling a little more comfortable now that it was starting to become a little lighter in the room. Jimmy was making a face across the counter but it wasn’t disgust, more as he didn’t want to think about his father kissing anyone. 

“Were you guys together while you were with mom? Does she know?” Tracey asked meekly,

“Trevor kinda disappeared off the face of the earth when your mom got pregnant, came back when you were two and me and her were getting married” Michael explained, “I um...I wanted to be loyal to your mother, seriously, I did. And I  _ was  _ for almost three years, and then a year after me and your mom got married--”

“--We were running a job a few towns over, spending a lot of time alone together” Trevor budded in, 

“And, shit happens. What can I say? Your dad is one  _ rocko macho foxo stud _ ”

Tracey audibly gagged at Michael’s description of himself while Trevor held him tighter as he laughed into his shoulder. Michael looked about the room, throwing his hands up asking “What? What I say?”

“But did mom know?” Tracey persisted

“Yeah. Yeah she did. Pretty much from the start but she wanted what I wanted, she wanted a family. So she didn’t say anything till she told me she wanted a divorce”

“So that's why?”

“I mean, there’s a lot of reasons” said Michael

“Your parents hating each other for most of their marriage was a big one” Trevor added

“Okay but...at one point did you guys decide to get back together? I mean, Uncle T, pop did fake his death to get away from you--”

“ _ Jimmy _ ” Michael warned, but Trevor put a hand over his mouth as he listened to Jimmy go on. Michael pulled his hand away from him but instead of batting it away held it, giving it a tight squeeze before he rested his lips against the back of his hand.

“--And then he had you working for the FIB for a year,  _ and  _ he didn’t even tell you what happened in North Yankton until like, you had to go up there yourself!” Jimmy continued,

“Yeah and didn’t you guys like, decide not to talk after you stole gold from a bank?”

“Well  _ first of all,  _ everything you guys are saying was a lot more complicated than you’re making it out to be” Michael explained,

“Mmm, but your dad  _ could’ve  _ let me in on all of his dirty little secrets  _ a lot  _ sooner” Trevor nodded,

“But, look...Trev can you put your fucking leg down, its shaking”

“Not until Tracey backs away from the fucking fridge!”

“God! Fine, whatever!” Tracey scoffed

“I fell in love with Trevor when I was twenty one years old. I was poor, I was sad, and I was lonely. And I didn’t know what love was until he ended up in my life, and I only know heartbreak when he’s away. So we’re together again, and we’re making up for lost time, and we ain’t splittin’. And I love you kids, and I want you around! But you gotta understand, for as long as I’ve known Trevor i’ve been trying...to fucking understand what this feeling is. Hell, I paid my shrink to tell me for nine years that I didn’t love Trevor and anything I felt was just another fucking symptom of whatever my diagnosis is right now”

“Hey by the way, didn’t he just move back into his house?” Jimmy asked

“ _ What? _ ” 

Jimmy took out his phone and read from the screen, “Yeah he just posted it on his Lifeinvader:  _ ‘Happy to finally be back home--recovery is going smoothly and I hope to start my book tour soon’  _ and then he put a smiley face...hey what's his book about?” 

Michael reached out and snatched the phone from Jimmy’s hand. He reread the message over and over, glaring at Friedlander’s pubic-like head hair in his icon. He bit his lower lip, he knew he’d show up again eventually but he wasn’t really sure  _ what  _ he’d do. Last time he beat the guy within an inch of his life, only surviving because afterwards Michael called him an ambulance. Hell, his hand was still sore from punching his face in and he could still hear the sound of his ribs breaking. ‘ _ How’s this for a violent fucking outburst you fuck!’  _ Michael screamed as Friedlander whimpered under him, blood staining his antique goat fur rug.

Trevor let go of Michael and ran up stairs, Tracey was yelling something at him but Michael didn’t hear her. He held the edge of the counter and rubbed the bridge of his nose, thinking... _ thinking _ ...but nothing came. It was blinding white, like right before he lost it in his office. One minute he was sitting on the couch with him, the next he was ontop of him with his knuckles bloody and staring at his shrink’s busted nose. 

The next sensation Michael felt was Trevor on him again holding his arm and holding his pants for him to put on, yelling “ _ hurry up!”  _

“What’re we doin’?”

“Visiting your shrink, you need a checkup”

“Ooo can we come? Pop always has the best sessions” Tracey beamed,

“Yeah remember last time when he almost popped a blood vessel yelling at mom?” Jimmy laughed,

Michael put his legs through his pants as Trevor pulled them up for him. He smiled at him, he was wearing his varsity jacket again with no shirt underneath. Michael could see the hickies appear on his skin now, the little bruises along his body. He reached out with his free hand and held Trevor’s, kissing his hands again.  _ The way I feel, the way he feels for me, It's too real to be fake.  _ He felt Trevor kiss the top of his head and his heart felt like it was beating so fast it was gonna escape from his chest.

“Um...hello? Pop? Uncle T?” Tracey called, “Can we come to your visit?”

Michael lifted his head smiling from ear to ear, he felt like he had stars in his eyes. “I don't think it’d be a good idea. I think I’m gonna cut him off, tell him I need a new shrink”

“Well that's kinda obvious, dad” Jimmy shrugged, “I mean nine years and you didn’t really get any better”

“No...I think he did something, but I think I need Trevor to help me make that breakthrough” He said with a wink 

Trevor sneered, “You said I didn’t have to go to therapy, sugar tits! I already got a shrink”

“Hey, you can walk me over, and you don't gotta stay. But I really think this’ll be good...for both of us”

“Mmm...I do this, we come back here and break in the couch” Trevor was holding Michael’s face, his eyes wild. Tracey and Jimmy awkwardly shuffled about in the background while Michael and Trevor looked longingly at each other. 

“We’ll um...We’ll go, but, dad, please stop like, threatening my friends”

“Uh huh, sure thing sweetheart” 

“You talkin’ to me, or Tracey?” Trevor asked,

“Both?”

“Oh my god” Jimmy was already walking out the door, yelling at Tracey to hurry up. Michael leaned in and let Trevor kiss him before he pulled back and walked out the door with Tracey. They walked the kids back to their car and waited for them to pull out of their driveway when Michael leaned in against Tracey’s door and asked anxiously, “Hey Trace...We okay?”

“We’re okay, pop. Just be nice to Uncle T, okay?” Tracey smiled,

“Yeah and don't threaten anymore strung out college students!” Jimmy added,

“I’ll make good on the first thing, second one...ehhh”

Once they drove off Michael returned to Trevor who wrapped his arm around him and lead him down the side of the freeway. Trevor rested his lips against Michael’s scalp kissing him hundreds of times just within the few steps they had taken. Michael reached behind him and put his hand in Trevor’s back pocket and gave a little squeeze. Trevor let out a playful giggle and pushed Michael with his hip a little. They both laughed and then walked in silence the rest of the way, occasionally one looking at the other to admire them.

***

Isaiah Friedlander was a simple man. He liked his coffee enema’s lukewarm, his whale sounds CD at an appropriate volume as he slept, and kept a notepad by his bed of meaningless vague words of wisdom to tell his patients during their $1000 visits. 

When he returned to his home with crutches and enough pain pills to make him forget the last five years, all he wanted was to go to his chic modernist kitchen and drink one of his all-natural organic non-gmo unprocessed vegan tea’s he bought from his favourite department store. In fact he  _ dreamed  _ of it the night prior, that was how he  _ knew  _ he was  _ destined  _ to drink that fucking tea. 

As he awoke after his first night back home he wasn’t expecting the smell of his tea’s to hit him so violently. His first thought was that this must be what his patients smell when they come into his home,  _ how nice.  _ His second thought however was, why did it smell like gasoline?

He limped through the hallway staring out at the open living room and kitchen area complete with bamboo floors and grey walls he thought stimulated the mind. 

“Aw thank you sweetheart” said a familiar voice, followed by a quick kissing sound.

His stomach dropped,  _ am I in the wrong home? No, no, no one else has my same decor.  _ For the next dreadfully long ten seconds all that one could hear was the sound of Friedlander’s crutches as he turned the corner. But before he could even raise his head to look, he had a hand on his neck that violently threw him to the ground. 

“Doc! I was wondering when you’d show up!” Michael beamed. Friedlander lifted his head, letting out a panicked sound as he saw Michael De Santa, his patient, his  _ piggy bank,  _ for the last nine years sitting in his designer loveseat drinking out of one of his porcelain teacups. It was like some horrible cosmic mistake, some sick joke the world was playing on the poor doctor. And then he saw on the coffee table that there was the teapot, the sugar bowl, and two other teacups on saucers. 

“Oh god” was all he could get out before the hand was on the top of his head, pulling him down the hallway and into the living room. The man pulling hummed as he lifted Friedlander up like he weighed less than a feather and sat him down on the couch parallel to him. Then he saw him,  _ good god  _ there he was.  _ Trevor Philips. _

“You remember me telling you about Trevor, right?” Michael asked as he put his teacup down, the porcelain making a little  _ clank  _ as it landed. Michael made his way over to Trevor and kissed his cheek, smiling from ear to ear. “I thought you’d want to meet him in person”

“H-Hello” Friedlander stammered,

“Aw, I think he shit himself a little, Mikey” Trevor laughed, 

“Eh, it's the man’s house! He can shit on the floor for all I care” Michael shrugged. He let go of Trevor and bent down. Friedlander flinched as Michael reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “I’m gonna keep this, alright, doc? I want this session to be about  _ us  _ and not the world outside”

“God you sound like such a pretentious asshole right now” Trevor snorted, taking a seat on the other loveseat. He crossed his legs and took a sip of his tea, giving an approving nod in Friedlander’s direction.

“You love me” Michael smiled,

“I do, you’re a pretentious fucking snake, but I do love you, yes” Trevor said

“M-Michael, please. If this is about the book--” Friedlander tried,

“No, no, no, Doc. Look, we gotta talk, me and you and Trevor! Free of charge, of course”

“Of course!” Friedlander nodded. He was desperate, beyond terrified, hell he hadn’t even had his pain killers yet that morning.

“Now you remember nine years ago, I walked into your office and I was really messed up. You remember that, right doc?”

He nodded, 

“It was the anniversary of the day I hurt someone, a lot of people actually, but one person in particular” Michael continued, “You remember who that someone was?”

“T-Trevor” he answered

“Right!” Michael smiled, “And you remember I told you, that whole thing was especially hard for me, because I confided in you that Trevor was not only the only man I ever loved, but the only _ person  _ on this earth I ever truly  _ really  _ fucking loved? Huh? You remember?”

“I do, you also said that you were terrified he was going to find you a-and kill you”

Trevor cackled, “Oh boy, if only he knew”

“But you remember what you told me at the end of all of that? After I cried in your fuckin’ office for an hour about how I lost the love of my life and it was my own fucking fault and I was terrified I’d never find that kind of love again?”

Friedlander paused, but he had no one to turn to. He looked up Trevor who was just so entertained to watch the good doctor nearly shit himself if he hadn’t already. And Michael wasn’t much better, his smile was too calm for what Friedlander knew was going to come.

“I dont recall” Friedlander whimpered, hoping that Michael would take mercy on him in some shape or form. Afterall, Michael  _ was  _ a typical narcissistic psychopath in his professional opinion, but he did have a penchant for falling victim to guilt. Sadly for him, however, this was not one of those moments.

“You told me I should hate him because I wasn’t meant to love him, because he wasn’t meant to love me. And then for nine fucking years you tried to keep me away from men, from loving them, from loving Trevor. And I don't fucking appreciate that kind of treatment, doc. Not in this day and age, not-fucking-ever”

Friedlander forced himself to smile so hard he felt like his cheeks were going to burst, but there wasn’t any point. Michael slammed his fist against his cheek and he went flying to the ground. He let out a cry of pain and held his cheek, crying “Michael please!”

“ _ Michael please _ !” Trevor mimicked in a baby voice. He stood next to Michael and slapped his ass, “You got any musical preferences, Mikey?”

“Hm...can you put on  _ Radio Ga Ga _ ?”

“Jesus it's like you’re stuck in some shitty 80’s movie” Trevor groaned but he complied. He sat on the couch with his phone on the coffee table blaring Queen, while he drank his tea, watching his boyfriend grab Friedlander by his hair and punch him again and again. With each punch Trevor let out a satisfied  _ mmm  _ sound, occasionally moaning,  _ “Fuck him up, Mikey _ ”

But Michael was on another plane of existence. He didn’t know what he was doing when him and Trevor snuck into his old shrink’s place. In fact up until Trevor handed him his cup of tea and looked at him so  _ fucking tenderly,  _ he didn’t know why he even showed up there. Then Friedlander and his somewhat healed body came through the door and something just overcame him. 

With each punch the taste of bitterness in the back of his throat became sweeter. Every look he got from someone who saw him staring at another man disappeared from his mind. Every time his father beat him and told him  _ “its for your own good so you won't end up a homo” _ became less sharp against his psyche. Every time he told himself he couldn’t love Trevor because men don't like men, went from a sad memory to a reason to be angry. He was tired of pretending to be someone he wasn’t, tired of running, tired of hiding. He was forty eight years old, so in love with the man named Trevor Philips, and he wasn’t going to let some prick who got rich off shaming him live his life without any scars.

When he felt Friedlander’s nose break again, he let up his punches. He grabbed him by his collar and shook him wildly as Friedlander sobbed. “You fucking see me?!” Michael yelled,

Friedlander nodded,

“You ain't ever gonna tell anybody what you use to tell me, you understand?” 

He nodded, a weak whimper escaping him,

“And you are gonna apologize, to me,  _ and  _ to my boyfriend, Trevor”

“I’m sorry!” Friedlander sobbing sounded like a wounded dog, but it was music to Michael’s ears. He looked over at Trevor who was smiling as he licked his lips. 

“I love him! You hear me? I love him and I’ll fucking kill you!” Michael yelled

“I’m sorry!” Friedlander repeated,

“He’s got good tea, though” Trevor budded in.

Michael turned to him and smiled. He let go of Friedlander, letting his head crash against the hardwood bamboo. He went to Trevor and stood in between his legs and kissed the bridge of his nose. “You wanna get any punches in?” Michael asked as if he was asking Trevor if he wanted another spoonful of sugar,

“Hm... you want me to?” Trevor replied, eyes shut, his voice like velvet against Michael’s ears. 

“I want you to do what you want”

“Maybe just a few”

“Go nuts, baby”

Michael took Trevor’s place and sat drinking his cup of tea. He watched Friedlander scream as Trevor beat him senseless, screaming words that didn’t translate for Michael. He watched everything in slow motion, how Trevor beat Friedlander like it was an art, like he was dancing.  _ The way I feel for him, the way he feels for me, it's all I ever needed.  _

Trevor let up once Friedlander started losing consciousness. Michael was already dialing the ambulance on his phone, while Trevor went to the kitchen and withdrew the tea he’d used. “I could buy you tea, T”

“Yeah but, it won't taste as good as this moment” Trevor replied as he decided  _ fuck it  _ and grabbed as many tins as he could carry. 

Once Michael called the ambulance he kicked Friedlander lightly, he let out a low wheezing out. “You leave town the minute you can walk, you understand me?”

He nodded,

“Because I don't wanna come back here”

Trevor made his way over, gesturing the door for them to go before the paramedics showed up. Michael reached out and took some of the tins of tea to help and kissed him. As Friedlander wheezed under them, Trevor beamed, “Nice meetin’ you doc, hope your next patient doesn’t need to put you in your fuckin’ place”

Friedlander spat out a tooth before he lost consciousness, Trevor put it in his pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As an apology for blue balling (?) everyone last week here’s a stupidly long chapter I literally lost my mind writing because tHERES JUST SO MUCH I GOTTA SAY ABT THESE TWO  
> I’m not really into writin’ smut partially bc im not that great at it so uh… this chapter took some edits and rewrites. So my apologies if the smut aint that good, I hope the fluff is tho!! I love you!! Love yourself!! You’re capable of so many wonderful things and I believe in you!!! I hope you believe in yourself too someday, its okay if its not today, because I love u anyway<33   
> xoxo,   
> Daaarlings


End file.
